tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54241284813061522442017-12-09T15:17:37.694-05:00FROM THE FIELD: THOM NICKELSMy weekly columns and features on a wide variety of topics.Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comBlogger400125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-82005174055376234692017-12-09T12:05:00.004-05:002017-12-09T15:17:37.817-05:00The Real Story of Johnny S. Bobbitt, Jr.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6VzG-Fal2-k/WiwXkvE5jUI/AAAAAAAAByE/VZ83pekNI8ILJMoXa0al_dMQdW0nj1HHgCLcBGAs/s1600/00202_1xZVn5BF6iT_600x450%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="336" data-original-width="600" height="223" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6VzG-Fal2-k/WiwXkvE5jUI/AAAAAAAAByE/VZ83pekNI8ILJMoXa0al_dMQdW0nj1HHgCLcBGAs/s400/00202_1xZVn5BF6iT_600x450%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Stay Tuned: The 'Real' story of Johnny S. Bobbitt, Jr.<br /><br />&nbsp; &nbsp;<span style="font-size: 9pt;">The media’s embrace of the plight of a homeless ex Marine </span><st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">EMT</span></st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 9pt;"> firefighter from </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">North Carolina</span></st1:place></st1:state><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">who struck <i>public relations pay dirt</i> when he came to the aid of a driver who ran out of gas near his I-95<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">exit panhandling station had all the elements of a Walt Disney <i>After School Special</i>. Pretty girl runs out of gas, attempts to leave her vehicle after sunset in an area as bleak as it is dark; sees a shadowy figure emerge in front of her. Is it an alien from Whitely Strieber’s <i>Communion?</i> No, it’s Johnny S. Bobbitt, Jr. a transplant to </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> some 10 months ago who wound up homeless on the streets of the city through a series of “bad choices.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The “bad choices” part is what the media has chosen to ignore now that the full story of this nocturnal meeting has gone viral. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Most people are probably unaware that the 95 exist ramp near </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Richmond Street</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> where Johnny met the woman Kate was a relatively new panhandling spot for Johnny. &nbsp;A few months prior to the meeting Johnny was stationed outside the Dollar Tree store in the </span><st1:place><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Port</span></st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> </span><st1:placename><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Richmond</span></st1:placename><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Shopping Center</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">. He would sit like yogi-like on a slat of cardboard near the entrance way of the store so that shoppers had a good view of him. A sign propped up beside him read: Homeless ex-Vet trying to go home, anything helps. He would change the sign periodically, as most homeless do. Upgrading your sign is essential if you want to grab the attention of the public. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Johnny’s method of asking for money in front of Dollar Tree was never intrusive. He often had his nose in a book and only rarely looked at people entering the store. There’d usually be a small stack of books beside him as well as a large plastic WAWA cup for donations. The fact that he was reading books stood out. When other homeless people sit on the ground they usually stare into space. During Johnny’s Dollar Tree days about a year ago, other homeless would stand outside stores like WAWA where they would make it a point to hold open the doors for customers. Some of the homeless asked for money outright but aggressive <i>asking</i> often got many of the homeless banned from various businesses.&nbsp; The fact that Johnny never asked for money outright but seemed earnestly engrossed in his books sparked the interest of many people, myself included.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 9pt;">Many Dollar Tree customers engaged Johnny in conversation and wound up asking him the same questions: How did you wind up homeless? Johnny’s story was that he came to </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 9pt;"> to start a job but then the job fell through and because of that he was not able to rent an apartment.</span><br /> <div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp;But if Johnny’s homelessness was just a matter of a job falling through, why didn’t he return to </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">North Carolina</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">? There had to be another reason for his homelessness, and of course there <i>was.</i> &nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;<b>Some background information</b>: Most heroin addicts lie about their addiction. This is especially the case when you first meet them. I’ve talked to many homeless men in the Riverwards and very few of them will tell you upfront that they are panhandling for drug money. Ask them how they became homeless and the vast majority will blame it on everything but drugs: the breakup of a relationship, the loss of a job, getting kicked out of their homes by upset parents. When they do mention drugs they will often mention prescription drugs. A heroin confession usually comes later after a bit of probing by the questioner. While Johnny never admitted that he was a heroin addict (we would argue about that later), he did tell me that when he came to Philadelphia he was on prescription meds for depression but when he was unable to renew his prescription, he was forced to buy drugs on the street.&nbsp;&nbsp;<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; To be continued...</span></div><br /></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-60683402567377205802017-12-02T14:32:00.004-05:002017-12-02T14:32:47.322-05:00ICON Magazine City Theater December 2017<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><b>Barrymore Awards</b>. Whether it’s the Academy Awards or Philadelphia’s Barrymore Awards, the adulation that actors receive can sometimes rival 4<sup>th</sup>&nbsp;of July fireworks. At this year’s Barrymores the Award for Outstanding Production of a Play went to Ego Po’s&nbsp;<i>The Seagull</i>. Jered McLenigan won Best Lead Actor in The Wilma’s<i>Constellations.</i>&nbsp;The Wilma’s Blanka Zizka walked away with Best Director award for&nbsp;<i>When the Rain Stops Falling.</i>&nbsp;Winner for Outstanding New play went to Will Snider’s&nbsp;<i>How to Use a Knife</i>&nbsp;(InterAct Theatre Company), an extraordinary gem directed by Seth Rozin. Outstanding Leading Actress Award went to Patrese D. McCain of People’s Light in Malvern for&nbsp;<i>Mountaintop</i>. Unfortunately Malvern’s twenty plus miles distance from Center City kept McCain’s talents hidden from city theater goers.</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXz31Np1vZ8/WiL_R-XcPmI/AAAAAAAABxU/5jfVp0BnZhQCsXtkPjYmcQV7DA9SOrG4ACLcBGAs/s1600/images%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="170" data-original-width="297" height="228" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXz31Np1vZ8/WiL_R-XcPmI/AAAAAAAABxU/5jfVp0BnZhQCsXtkPjYmcQV7DA9SOrG4ACLcBGAs/s400/images%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;<b>Blood Wedding</b>. Famed Hungarian director-choreographer Csaba Horvath transformed Frederico Lorca’s seminal work into a hybrid mix of dance, poetry and hypnotic mantra making. A weak willed bride (Sarah Gliko) is conned into leaving her marriage celebration by a former lover, Leonardo (Lindsay Smiling), a sexy man without a future. Harsh reality intrudes when Leonardo kills the groom (Jered McLenigan) in a madcap fight. Lorca’s prose poetry isn’t easily translated into English so the beginning of the play was more an alphabet soup of poetic phrases than anything resembling narrative. Horvath’s choreography had its beautiful moments, such as when the cast picked up sections of the floor and used them as shrouds or cloaks, suggesting a human metamorphosis into mushrooms. But watching these same dancer-actors form human pyramids to scale a giant on-stage wall seemed more like a distraction. Acrobatics as dialogue may work for BalletX, but it rarely takes the place of language when the idea is to tell a story.&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vAsmG-ItYyk/WiL_b3kXjFI/AAAAAAAABxY/94A5t4AX-9wQ036LvJNYqJmWauQ0LNQKACLcBGAs/s1600/download%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="169" data-original-width="297" height="227" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vAsmG-ItYyk/WiL_b3kXjFI/AAAAAAAABxY/94A5t4AX-9wQ036LvJNYqJmWauQ0LNQKACLcBGAs/s400/download%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><b>Broken Stones</b>. Playwright Fin Kennedy is a noted teacher of playwriting in London’s East End. He also writes plays for young adults and children. In this play Kennedy seems lost between the worlds of childhood and adulthood. Rand Guerrero plays Ramirez/Romano, an Iraq war vet who’s Marine Company was involved in the looting of antiquities from an Iraq museum. A writer (Charlotte Northeast) convinces Romano to tell his story. The result is a best selling book and war hero status for Romano. But here the story devolves quickly. Did the theft really happen? Did Romano really lose his wife on 9/11 in one of the Twin Towers? Is his story about the antiquities theft really real? The only certain thing here is the fact that The Writer plays God while flaunting her ability top reinvent Romano or even erase him from the script altogether. During the post-play talk-back, director Seth Rozin confessed that he had initial concerns that Kennedy pulled the rug out from the audience too many times. Rozin was right: Kennedy wiped out the play with too many rugs.</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ehXB0igpc9c/WiL_jNZtUPI/AAAAAAAABxc/36DaPNV1dUgIiZcpTIqqtCvM-bw71lmnQCLcBGAs/s1600/download%2B%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="193" data-original-width="262" height="294" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ehXB0igpc9c/WiL_jNZtUPI/AAAAAAAABxc/36DaPNV1dUgIiZcpTIqqtCvM-bw71lmnQCLcBGAs/s400/download%2B%25283%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><b>See and be Scene..</b>&nbsp;PTC Producing Artistic Director Paige Price moderated a preview of possible new plays to be staged at the Suzanne Roberts Theater. Choices included R. Eric Thomas’&nbsp;<i>The Folks at Home</i>, an interracial political comedy;&nbsp;<i>The Anatomy of Love</i>&nbsp;by Ted Malawer, a story about the gender transition of a couple’s toddler daughter;&nbsp;<i>If I Forget</i>&nbsp;by Steven Levenson, about the life and times of a Jewish Studies Professor;&nbsp;<i>A Small Fire</i>&nbsp;by Adam Block, about illness and unconditional love. What struck me about all these offerings was the preponderance of female themes. Does this mean that male themes and stories about men have been relegated to the back of the bus at PTC?</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8wzVEbecufs/WiL_rHAKqbI/AAAAAAAABxg/HrMISVK2WzkH1hv6yDOIhMZiPVE3V0ZgACLcBGAs/s1600/maxresdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8wzVEbecufs/WiL_rHAKqbI/AAAAAAAABxg/HrMISVK2WzkH1hv6yDOIhMZiPVE3V0ZgACLcBGAs/s400/maxresdefault.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kGfCW2HFkQk/WiL_0cU2lBI/AAAAAAAABxo/m-6iMiervMgFpjcIqoRFhJpfRaIQF_zpACLcBGAs/s1600/images%2B%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kGfCW2HFkQk/WiL_0cU2lBI/AAAAAAAABxo/m-6iMiervMgFpjcIqoRFhJpfRaIQF_zpACLcBGAs/s400/images%2B%25283%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><b>The Craftsman.&nbsp;</b>Playwright Bruce Graham scores another hit with this Lantern Theater Company Production which takes place immediately after WWII when the Dutch Provisional Government in Amsterdam becomes as power hungry as the Nazi siege that it succeeded. Anthony Lawton excels as the artist Han van Meegeren who goes on trial for suspected treason and collaboration with the Germans. Directed by M. Craig Getting, the play is a triumphal study of hatred and the hazy boundary between revenge and forgiveness. A fascinating two hours and fifteen minutes. (Till December 10).&nbsp;<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 9pt; text-transform: uppercase;">&nbsp;</span></b></div><h3 style="background: white; font-family: arial; line-height: 12.95pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 9pt; text-transform: uppercase;">&nbsp;</span></h3><h3 style="background: white; font-family: arial; line-height: 12.95pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 9pt; text-transform: uppercase;">&nbsp;</span></h3><h3 style="background: white; font-family: arial; line-height: 12.95pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 9pt; text-transform: uppercase;">&nbsp;</span></h3><h3 style="background: white; font-family: arial; line-height: 12.95pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 9pt; text-transform: uppercase;">&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; text-transform: uppercase;">&nbsp;</span></h3></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-27398630999951788752017-11-29T16:35:00.002-05:002017-11-30T14:14:39.654-05:00An Unpleasant Coffee with Sister Vassa<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Os6YjywZ7ow/Wh8kQ6nXM2I/AAAAAAAABxE/XDf89hEe7CIIZnOvOtGsnPaxGnLGAOOxQCLcBGAs/s1600/035cef191efd62ad2aa70c83e065685d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="350" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Os6YjywZ7ow/Wh8kQ6nXM2I/AAAAAAAABxE/XDf89hEe7CIIZnOvOtGsnPaxGnLGAOOxQCLcBGAs/s320/035cef191efd62ad2aa70c83e065685d.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><br /><br />I've decided to title this entry, 'My Unpleasant Coffee with Sister Vassa.' Why such a title? I'll get to that in a minute. First let me say that I've always felt admiration for Sister Vassa, mostly because of her earlier Coffee with Sister Vassa YouTube shows, which are usually taped in Vienna, Austria, where I visited once several years ago (and loved). As an Orthodox Christian (from Roman Catholic) I jumped at the chance to hear a lecture by Sister Vassa at a local Orthodox Philadelphia parish. But shortly after the lecture began I felt a growing sense of disappointment. I found Sister Vassa a little too sassy and snarky and too much 'in love' with her own celebrity.<br /><br />&nbsp;I even detected more than a flair of arrogance in her, especially when I asked a question during the post lecture Q and A. My question that had to do with the growth of Islam in western Europe. I wanted her unique perspective as an Orthodox nun but what I got was a cryptic wink and a nod. Then she told a joke which seemed to suggest that I had committed a small offense by asking such a question. I approached Sister Vassa at the reception after her talk and asked why she had answered my question in such a strange, hostile manner. Fortunately, she was slightly more agreeable (reception food and drink work wonders), or at least her snarkiness was gone. Then she mentioned something about having to "be careful about saying certain things" in public and at that moment I thought, "Oh, it's all about perceived Islamophobia, EU rules and so called 'hate' crimes." She lives in Vienna, after all.<br /><br />In late November 2017, I spotted a Facebook post of hers in which she appeared without her religious habit. Apparently she was in Boston for a liturgical/theological conference of some sort (in conjunction with the respected Eastern Catholic Jesuit priest, Fr, Robert Taft). The Facebook photo showed Sister Vassa in long flowing locks looking very much like a sexy coed holding a purple umbrella in the rain. The photo's caption read something like this:, "Here I am in my civies." What's this, I thought, a Novus Ordo Russian Orthodox nun? I know that many Catholic nuns have gone the way of all flesh and now dress in skirts, hoop earrings and makeup, and I said as much on Sister's Facebook page and even took it a step further when I said, "What's next for you, dating?" I was just returning snarky for snarky, after all. Then I suggested that perhaps she was walking around in public in her "civies" because she was hanging out with a Jesuit. Later, to my dismay (but not complete surprise), Sister Vassa 'unfriended' me on Facebook. I am now no longer on her coffee train and will have to take my brew with priests who don't take 'selfies' under purple umbrellas. <br />&nbsp; <br />&nbsp; I came upon a wonderful paragraph about Sister Vassa in the Saint Euphrosynos Cafe Discussion Forum:<br /><br />&nbsp;"<span style="background-color: #e1ebf2; color: #000040; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">Whereas, despite Sister Vassa's attempt to post uncontroversial themes, her emphasis is entirely upon herself ! This should tipoff everyone that she is not a fit leader for a 'ministry'. There are too many sociopaths and narcissists already in various Protestant, evangelical and other 'ministries' who are using the adulation of the congregation to do much harm to the souls of their flocks. It has almost become commonplace to find out that so and so preacher or popular local minister has actually been living an undercover life of darkness all the while the pastor was loudly proclaiming his belief with thundering preaching."</span><br /><span style="background-color: #e1ebf2; color: #000040; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #e1ebf2;"><span style="color: #000040; font-family: Lucida Grande, Trebuchet MS, Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">&nbsp;Oh my! Perhaps that quote is a bit extreme, but it's my&nbsp;prediction&nbsp;that Sister Vassa's journey into the mesh of Novus Ordo is far from over.&nbsp;</span></span></span></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-47149625859519608832017-11-29T16:14:00.002-05:002017-11-29T16:18:04.398-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My new book, publication date March 19, 2018.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5vZx5ASzTk8/Wh8i-othofI/AAAAAAAABw4/cn4g3umjcQYLb6MJWOn22DK9IltpMuAlQCLcBGAs/s1600/9518-PHIL-cvr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1161" data-original-width="1600" height="290" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5vZx5ASzTk8/Wh8i-othofI/AAAAAAAABw4/cn4g3umjcQYLb6MJWOn22DK9IltpMuAlQCLcBGAs/s400/9518-PHIL-cvr.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-18184991412040211222017-11-15T23:00:00.004-05:002017-11-16T12:37:33.878-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><h2 style="text-align: center;"><b><i>guest blogger</i></b></h2><h2 style="text-align: center;"><b>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;</b></h2><h2 style="text-align: center;"><b>George E. Thomas’s Book <i>First Modern</i> Extols PAFA’s Architectural Importance:&nbsp; A Review &nbsp;</b></h2><h2 style="text-align: center;"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp;</b><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">(By) Marita Krivda Poxon</span></b></h2><div><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0z_OXXwrrOw/Wg3MQHIHUPI/AAAAAAAABwU/e-9htOkgOkoa5XW9oSkr1-W8m4HPxRo0wCLcBGAs/s1600/First%2BModern%2BBook%2BCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="260" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0z_OXXwrrOw/Wg3MQHIHUPI/AAAAAAAABwU/e-9htOkgOkoa5XW9oSkr1-W8m4HPxRo0wCLcBGAs/s400/First%2BModern%2BBook%2BCover.jpg" width="375" /></a></div><div><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div><br /></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">George E. Thomas has taught at the University of Pennsylvania for over thirty years in the Historic Preservation Program. Since 2002 he commutes from Philadelphia to Harvard University where he also lectures in architecture. His title at Harvard’s Graduate School of Design is Co-Director of Critical Conservation Program.&nbsp; He refuses to move to Cambridge since he has not been a fan of the derivative colonial housing stock nearby Harvard’s campus. Since he was a young historian he has loved Philadelphia and has been the number one champion of Frank Furness. He even lives in a Frank Furness carriage house in Chestnut Hill.&nbsp;</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The buildings of Frank Furness are his passion ever since he rolled up his sleeves to spearhead the amazing restoration of PAFA during the Bicentennial.&nbsp;&nbsp; He advised architects on every inch of the building’s restoration to make whole again the glories of its basic bones.&nbsp; Years of work were spent in the study of surviving original architectural drawings and historic photographs of the building.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></b><br /><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-00ikroFiHrU/Wg3Me88waNI/AAAAAAAABwY/HI7aK-14yrgnvmkgm3jnOiytsEvtuFNWQCLcBGAs/s1600/PAFA%2BExterior%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="508" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-00ikroFiHrU/Wg3Me88waNI/AAAAAAAABwY/HI7aK-14yrgnvmkgm3jnOiytsEvtuFNWQCLcBGAs/s640/PAFA%2BExterior%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="508" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; PAFA Exterior&nbsp;</span></b><br /><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;(</span></b><b><span style="font-size: 9pt;">F. Gutekunst’s photo of PAFA in 1876)</span></b><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Thomas is also a prolific, fine writer whose books include: <i>William L. Price: From Arts and Crafts to Modern Design (2000) </i>and <i>Building America’s First University:&nbsp; An Architectural and Historical Guides to the University of Pennsylvania (2000)</i> and many others.&nbsp; In 1990 Thomas along with Bryn Mawr College’s Jeffrey A. Cohen wrote <i>Frank Furness: The Complete Works.</i> This book documents over 640 buildings that Furness designed that continue to inspire what today is called the Philadelphia School of Architecture.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">George E. Thomas’s new book is: <i>First Modern: Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts </i>(PAFA Distributed by University of Pennsylvania Press, 2017). No other architectural historian could have written the book just published with such obvious love of and appreciation for Frank Furness as Thomas. In the book’s Foreword, David Brigham, PAFA’s President and CEO praises the author since his book will enable its readers “<i>to understand the innovative nature of the building and appreciate its value today at the heart of PAFA’s mission.</i>” Also its publication serves as a lynchpin in the current Capital Campaign for the 21<sup>st</sup> Century preservation of the Furness masterpiece.&nbsp;</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">&nbsp; What makes the PAFA building the first modern is the way Furness connected his design to the machine culture that took over Philadelphia during its 19<sup>th</sup>Century industrial expansion.&nbsp;&nbsp; Mechanics, industrialists and inventors thrived in Philadelphia. It was the leader in global innovation with businesses like the Pennsylvania Railroad and the Baldwin Locomotive Works.&nbsp;&nbsp; The impact of the city’s industrial growth extended into all areas as engineers and inventors served on the boards of cultural centers like PAFA. Many members of the 1870 PAFA Board came from this industrial culture.&nbsp; They selected Furness and his partner Hewitt to construct a new museum which would use iron and steel as they themselves had used in building their own commercial enterprises.&nbsp; The Board wanted to create an industrial caliber “capacious fire-proof” art museum and school. The chapters on the intrigue and battle among these board members to select Furness &amp; Hewitt as competition winner are riveting.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Ralph Waldo Emerson was important to Frank Furness.&nbsp; At an early age, he learned about Emerson’s forward thinking, American-centered philosophy from his father, the Reverend William Henry Furness who was the head of the city’s First Unitarian Church.&nbsp; Emerson called for Americans “to represent in their culture the opportunities of their own time.” This Emersonian emphasis on the future not the past dominated Furness throughout his life. <o:p></o:p></span></b><br /><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Vdu82ugTosY/Wg3Mq2fz1NI/AAAAAAAABwc/n4mihDDONZ8NcJ_OEc40BI4gh6XtxyNQwCLcBGAs/s1600/PAFA%2BTrusses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="462" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Vdu82ugTosY/Wg3Mq2fz1NI/AAAAAAAABwc/n4mihDDONZ8NcJ_OEc40BI4gh6XtxyNQwCLcBGAs/s640/PAFA%2BTrusses.jpg" width="462" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; PAFA Trusses</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The new technologies that make PAFA modern include: the use of iron beams to span smaller interior rooms as well as wider interior galleries. The use of steel trusses on the Cherry Street exterior façade and above the long gallery was revolutionary.&nbsp; Building materials of the industrial age were exposed and visible including iron columns that carried wrought-iron beams.&nbsp; Massive steel girders with exposed rivets span the auditorium. Modern industrial machinery created the floral and linear ornament on the stone work of the main entrance hallway.&nbsp; Industrial iron beams and steel columns - truly modern!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Thomas includes stunning old and new photographs.&nbsp; Those from PAFA’s archives are amazing since they bring the reader back to another century. The modern photographs highlight the continued integrity of Furness’s structure.&nbsp; The book itself is a treasure through its visually stunning pictorial representations and its splendid organization.&nbsp; Kudos to the author for writing a book whose meticulous scholarship proves, celebrates and christens PAFA as “the first modern” building in the world.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-28029491072573211112017-11-15T22:47:00.002-05:002017-11-15T22:49:53.976-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DBc93kdUEtM/Wg0JRq7eEQI/AAAAAAAABvw/iB9smCPgVlIOwZMbKGI6tsJ6jibWK189ACLcBGAs/s1600/02.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DBc93kdUEtM/Wg0JRq7eEQI/AAAAAAAABvw/iB9smCPgVlIOwZMbKGI6tsJ6jibWK189ACLcBGAs/s640/02.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>&nbsp; My Tonsure as a Reader in the Russian Orthodox Church at Saint Michael the Archangel Church in Philadelphia. With Bishop John before the start of the Hierarchial Divine Liturgy. The full occasion was the celebration of Fr. Vincent 41 years as pastor of the parish. Sunday, November 12, 2017.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LYCFK0BBLWo/Wg0KQlGTl5I/AAAAAAAABv8/IrykDGL9vKAQdljSdgWe99UHTAwbLzBiACLcBGAs/s1600/03%2B%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LYCFK0BBLWo/Wg0KQlGTl5I/AAAAAAAABv8/IrykDGL9vKAQdljSdgWe99UHTAwbLzBiACLcBGAs/s400/03%2B%25281%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-55712843559286175802017-09-20T12:24:00.004-04:002017-09-20T12:24:25.637-04:00ICON Magazine Theater Reviews<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><b>ICON Theater Sept. 2017</b></div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><b>Tommy and Me.</b>&nbsp;This football sports play by former&nbsp;<i>Philadelphia Daily News</i>&nbsp;columnist Ray Didinger played to packed audiences at the Fringe Arts Building on Columbus Blvd. Theatre Exile’s production about Philadelphia Eagles legend Tommy McDonald and Didinger’s long struggle to get McDonald into the NFL Football Hall of Fame brightened up a ‘theater-zero’ August.&nbsp;<i>Tommy and Me</i>&nbsp;audiences applauded wildly as if the Fringe Arts stage had been transformed into Franklin Field. Directed by Joe Canuso with script input by playwright Bruce Graham (<i>Minor Demons, Coyote on a Fence, Desperate Affections</i>), Didinger’s play captured McDonald’s (Tom Teti) elfin quirks. Ned Pryce as Young Tommy (in football gear) had the right macho ambience, and Matt Pfeiffer was believable as the ‘always sensible, eternally patient Didinger who never lost faith in his childhood sports hero. Seventh grader Simon Kiley as the young Didinger—children don’t always come across well on stage—had a maturity that made you forget that he was a child except when he leapt into the air to give or return a ‘high five.’ The post-play panel discussion erupted into howls of laughter when the moderator told an inordinate number of politically incorrect jokes. One was a monologue on midgets and how their small hands and feet evokes images of Philly sports legend, Howard Eskin, who stands at 5’4”. &nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><b>Fishtown – A Hipster Noir</b>. &nbsp;Do hipsters consume ‘cool,’ rather than create it, as one writer quipped. Here we have obscure music, a blinding blast of social media, stuffed ‘turkey’ backpacks, detached discontent and pumpkin spice lattes.&nbsp;<i>Tribe of Fools</i>&nbsp;presents this virtual reality conspiracy when “a new app allows you to live out your wildest fantasies.” The play’s pop up question is: What really constitutes reality? &nbsp;Director Peter Smith says,&nbsp;<span style="background: rgb(248, 248, 248); color: #171717; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.5pt;">"We wanted to tell a story about social media and how statuses, tweets and photos make the internet a stage for the world to see us; but you can't tell the story of tech and social media without grappling with Sexism.”&nbsp;</span>You be the judge. Caitlin Weigel’s play is a Fringe Festival offering at the Louis Bluver Theater at the Drake, Sept. 8-23.</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><b>Leaps of Faith and Other Mistakes.&nbsp;</b>Diner en le blanc meets Cirque du Soleil at the Painted Bride Arts Center when weirdo acrobats dressed all in white sit on a sofa and attempt to be “exceptional in every moment.” Sometimes the forced comedy of slapstick and barb trading can loose the most attentive observer. I hope that’s not the case with these zany couch potatoes when they sit and fantasize about sailing on the high seas. Don’t forget to bring Dramamine. Presented by the Almanac Dance Circus Theater and directed by Annie Wilson, Sept. 6-23. &nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><b>The Bald Soprano. &nbsp;</b>Called an anti-play, this Eugene Ionesco work was first produced in 1950. Unlike Ionesco’s&nbsp;<i>Exit the King</i>, this absurdist work does not call for humans to put off lusts and desires in order to be&nbsp;<i>free.&nbsp;</i>What it does do is begin all over again as soon as it ends, making one think of the endless circles of Ravel’s Bolero. It’s a conversation between two couples, a maid and the maid’s fire chief lover. Ionesco wrote the play when he was leaning English. In the best tradition of the French Avant-garde, it’s full of non-sequiturs and mutilated aphorisms. Ionesco hated strict realism in theatre (he had a special contempt for Berdolt Brecht). The production stars Tina Brock, co-founder/Producing Artistic Director of The Idiopathic Ridiculopathy Consortium. Sept. 5-25, Bethany Mission Gallery, 1527 Brandywine Street, 215-285-0472)&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><b>Cabaret.&nbsp;</b>The stage of the Arden Theater will be transformed into Berlin’s notorious Kit Kat Club that novelist Christopher Isherwood wrote about in his 1945 book,&nbsp;<i>Goodbye to&nbsp;</i><i>Berlin</i><i>.</i>&nbsp;The 1972 film, described as “gay and gender bending,” starred Michael York as the bisexual Brian Roberts who has an affair with Sally Bowles while dating men on the side. &nbsp;How will the Arden ever duplicate Joel Grey’s majestic performance while wearing a corset, fishnets and stiletto heels? Directed by Matthew Decker and written by Joe Masteroff, Cabaret will usher in the Arden’s 30<sup>th</sup>anniversary season.&nbsp; Sept. 21-Oct. 22. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div class="aolmail_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">&nbsp;</div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-81711725439759298392017-07-30T19:19:00.002-04:002017-07-30T19:33:10.887-04:00Icon Theater August 2017<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;ICON THEATER AUGUST 2017</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Saturday Night Fever. </b>&nbsp;When this musical drama hit the big screen in 1977 audiences were mesmerized by John Travolta’s dance moves. The Bee Gees soundtrack went on to become the best selling soundtrack of all time. This Walnut Street Theater production starring Jacob Tischler as Tony Manero, a <st1:place>Brooklyn</st1:place>teen in a dead end job with a talent for disco dancing, has packed the house since May.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pvnFFATIBfs/WX5rlpuCI1I/AAAAAAAABu4/zvOzMr8dN48Dii6S2ZVTlQknttwfjqWRwCLcBGAs/s1600/images%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="179" data-original-width="282" height="253" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pvnFFATIBfs/WX5rlpuCI1I/AAAAAAAABu4/zvOzMr8dN48Dii6S2ZVTlQknttwfjqWRwCLcBGAs/s400/images%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />&nbsp;The dancing is as good as anything you might see at BalletX. &nbsp;Tischler, like Travolta, glides across the stage like an undulating rubber man on crack, spinning out moves with Annette (Nicole Colon) while simultaneously holding her romantic overtures at bay. Enter sultry Stephanie Mangano (Alexandra Matteo), hard to get and even harder to please but with Tony’s persistence (and wiggles), who can resist? Annette’s whinny clamor for Tony’s attention is the blueprint for the death of one of Tony’s friends on the <st1:place><st1:placename>Brooklyn</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Bridge</st1:placetype></st1:place>even if the tragedy is blithely danced away. Richard Stafford is responsible for the engaging and beautiful choreography. It’s no wonder that SNF was designated “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant” by the Library of Congress.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YwaAAtnp854/WX5srE2m19I/AAAAAAAABvM/q-agka7tsBAIAInR7Pwfyx33D9BsNEz7wCLcBGAs/s1600/snf05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="398" data-original-width="600" height="265" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YwaAAtnp854/WX5srE2m19I/AAAAAAAABvM/q-agka7tsBAIAInR7Pwfyx33D9BsNEz7wCLcBGAs/s400/snf05.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>The Humans</b>. The Walnut’s 2017-18 season will include Stephen Karam’s Tony Award winning play about family tensions over the Thanksgiving holiday. Originally an off Broadway production, <i>The Humans</i> went on to win six Tonys. Walnut President and Producing Artistic Director Bernard Havard announced that the Walnut is the first theater to acquire the rights to produce this play. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rHD1caQKv1g/WX5sI2XaMLI/AAAAAAAABu8/ukI6yhiQ9rMtIlkBhpyBJIyrqaz4L5ssgCLcBGAs/s1600/200-humans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="261" data-original-width="200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rHD1caQKv1g/WX5sI2XaMLI/AAAAAAAABu8/ukI6yhiQ9rMtIlkBhpyBJIyrqaz4L5ssgCLcBGAs/s400/200-humans.jpg" width="306" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>&nbsp;BalletX, Summer Series. &nbsp;</b>In the first dance piece, choreographer Annabelle Lopez Ochoa’s, Castrati, presents elongated human forms reminiscent of the alien beings in Whitely Strieber’s <i>Communion.</i>The dancers portray the last seven living castrati in the 16<sup>th</sup>-18<sup>th</sup>centuries.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aE1frs5J9Pk/WX5sSXrij8I/AAAAAAAABvE/ybIwhSresSENgYUXhZAG55XYkoOWHy1OQCLcBGAs/s1600/download%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="177" data-original-width="285" height="248" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aE1frs5J9Pk/WX5sSXrij8I/AAAAAAAABvE/ybIwhSresSENgYUXhZAG55XYkoOWHy1OQCLcBGAs/s400/download%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Ochoa has the dancers move in such a way that we can actually feel the castrati’s pain of being locked in a genderless world despite their beautiful voices.&nbsp; &nbsp;Castrati was easily the best segment of the production. In the second set, Matthew Neenan’s Let Mortal Tongues Awake, explores the relationship of individuals to authority through militarized movements of ‘The Citizen’ as dancer. The Kraftwork- style soundtrack evolves into patriotic songs as the dancers, in ironic opposition to the lyrics, appear with tape over their mouths, a not so subtle reference to imprisoned or silenced citizens in a fascist state. &nbsp;The subliminal reference to Trump’s <st1:country-region>America</st1:country-region>is obvious although this reviewer saw it more as the face of fascism in the academic world where the silencing of Milo Yiannopoulos and Ann Coulter has become common. BalletX is now off to the Breckenridge Music Festival in <st1:place><st1:city>Breckenridge</st1:city>, <st1:state>Colorado</st1:state></st1:place> and then the International Dance Festival in Vail, Colorado. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Tommy and </b><st1:state><st1:place><b>Me.</b></st1:place></st1:state> The world premier of sportswriter Ray Didinger’s autobiographical account of his push to have his football player boyhood hero, Tommy McDonald, inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. &nbsp;Certain to be the chief draw of Fringe Arts 2017. The play was read to a sold out audience at Plays and Players in 2015. Didinger, the author of 11 books, excavated the myth of “the dumb football player” on NPR’s Fresh Air in 2014. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DUI-sehzhtA/WX5sjL3TF5I/AAAAAAAABvI/uZNi6KcUJRoRUj-X0xxG9KWrDRdBaIR3wCLcBGAs/s1600/DM1TOMMY06A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DUI-sehzhtA/WX5sjL3TF5I/AAAAAAAABvI/uZNi6KcUJRoRUj-X0xxG9KWrDRdBaIR3wCLcBGAs/s400/DM1TOMMY06A.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;<b>Playpenn, new play development 2017. </b>Here’s where true theater lovers gather. Free and open to the public the scripts of six new plays were read in July: Terence Anthony’s <i>The House of the Negro Insane</i>; Brent Askari’s <i>Hard Cell</i>; Christine Evans’, <st1:place><i>Galilee</i></st1:place>; C.A. Johnson’s <i>Thirst</i>; Carter W. Lewis’ <i>With</i> and Jonathan Norton’s <i>Penny Candy</i>. The Conference included an online workshop with playwright Jacqueline Goldfinger and a class called Writing the Issue-Based Play (<st1:stockticker>IBP</st1:stockticker>). Playpenn’s Artistic Director, Paul Meshejian, wrote: “<a href="http://www.playpenn.org/" target="_blank"><span style="background: #efe9de; border: none 1.0pt; color: #cb3827; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot;; font-size: 13.0pt; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none;">PlayPenn</span></a><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: rgb(239 , 233 , 222); font-family: &quot;georgia&quot;; font-size: 13pt;">&nbsp;</span></span><span style="background: rgb(239 , 233 , 222); font-family: &quot;georgia&quot;; font-size: 13pt;">was founded because of what I considered a paucity of new play production in </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: rgb(239 , 233 , 222); font-family: &quot;georgia&quot;; font-size: 13pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: rgb(239 , 233 , 222); font-family: &quot;georgia&quot;; font-size: 13pt;">. The impulse was a local one. Since our founding, and by no means only because of PlayPenn, </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: rgb(239 , 233 , 222); font-family: &quot;georgia&quot;; font-size: 13pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: rgb(239 , 233 , 222); font-family: &quot;georgia&quot;; font-size: 13pt;">has experienced an explosion in the production of new work. That PlayPenn has supported work that has gone on to have a more prolific national presence is a welcome added benefit. “</span> &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-81921080498286092702017-07-30T19:01:00.001-04:002017-07-30T19:12:16.311-04:00ICON Theater July 2017<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">ICON </span></b><st1:stockticker><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">CITY</span></b></st1:stockticker><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> THEATER JULY 2017<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp; The Gospel According to Thomas Jefferson, Charles Dickens &amp; Count Leo Tolstoy. </span></b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Theology in five easy <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">pieces is the subject of this comedy by Scott Carter, which means a lot of back and forth about religion and<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;Jesus Christ. These three willful men from history, stuck in a room in the after life<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;(like the characters in Jean-Paul Sartre’s <i>No Exit),</i> have all written their own version of the New Testament minus <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">the “superstitious parts” they’ve rejected.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IGJAEgjeefE/WX5nxttqBJI/AAAAAAAABuw/PfLfoMHuyWoqAOHRzwI6Y7hrSxgMs3n4wCLcBGAs/s1600/gospel_full.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="275" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IGJAEgjeefE/WX5nxttqBJI/AAAAAAAABuw/PfLfoMHuyWoqAOHRzwI6Y7hrSxgMs3n4wCLcBGAs/s400/gospel_full.gif" width="271" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">They argue with one another but nobody emerges as winner of the debate. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;Carter’s script has the snappy, irreverence of his work as writer for<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;<i>Real Time with Bill Maher.</i> Andrew Criss as Tolstoy is powerful and peasant-like while Gregory Issac lends<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;the right ‘aristocratic touch’ to his portrayal of </span><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Jefferson</span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">. Brian McCann as Charles Dickens has<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;the zany wild writer thing down pat so that Dickens comes across as the most contemporary-seeming<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;man on stage. Unfortunately the play ends with a<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tXdLTNCQepU/WX5nZsIzlFI/AAAAAAAABuo/Tk66kkCbBqU2BZTfDfa-ASdrtF33az-5QCLcBGAs/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tXdLTNCQepU/WX5nZsIzlFI/AAAAAAAABuo/Tk66kkCbBqU2BZTfDfa-ASdrtF33az-5QCLcBGAs/s400/download.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">preachy condemnation of </span><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Jefferson</span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">’s having owned slaves while “hypocritically” writing so eloquently<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;about human rights and equality. Carter’s script obsesses on </span><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Jefferson</span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">’s sins despite the fact that in the<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;18<sup>th</sup> Century the notion of equality did not apply to slaves. The tiresome practice of judging famous<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">people of the past based on contemporary standards and values should die a quick death.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;(The Lantern Theater, until July 2)&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ojBpDp3Hgv4/WX5nlwgzGgI/AAAAAAAABus/jf-u3EQHryQC-LfbXXDv__KeBScr689lQCLcBGAs/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="266" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ojBpDp3Hgv4/WX5nlwgzGgI/AAAAAAAABus/jf-u3EQHryQC-LfbXXDv__KeBScr689lQCLcBGAs/s400/images.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Red Velvet</span></b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">. Not the cake, mind you, but Lolita Chakrabarti’s drama of intrigue and riots on the streets of </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">London</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;protesting the Slavery<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;Abolition Act as the first black man to portray <i>Othello</i> takes to the stage. This September 7- </span><st1:date day="8" month="10" year="2017"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">October 8, 2017</span></st1:date><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;Lantern production will set the tone for the fall season which will include two additional politically oriented<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">dramas, the WW II Nazi-German play, <i>The Craftsman</i>by Bruce Graham and </span><st1:city><st1:place><i><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Copenhagen</span></i></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;by Michael Frayn. Lantern’s spring 2018 program brings some fresh air into the house with its production<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;of the delightful French comedy, <i>Don’t Dress for Dinner.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Souvenir, A Fantasia on the Life of </span></b><st1:city><st1:place><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Florence</span></b></st1:place></st1:city><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> Foster Jenkins.&nbsp; </span></b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Don’t believe it when they say that<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;money can’t buy everything or that persistence can’t win out over talent. A big Cash Cow certainly<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;opened doors for the highly untalented but charismatic socialite, Florence Jenkins, who achieved international<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;fame as a coloratura soprano. &nbsp;The productions at Walnut Street Theater’s Independence Studio on 3 just keep<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;getting better and better. (September 12-</span><st1:date day="15" month="10" year="2017"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">October 15, 2017</span></st1:date><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">).&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">American Canvas</span></b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">. Whatever happened to this potentially marvelous play about </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> painter <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Thomas Eakins? </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> Theater Company had it all planned out but then substituted<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;<i>The Absolute Brightness of Leonard Pelkey<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;at the last minute. Will there even be a Thomas Eakins play on a </span><st1:place><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Center</span></st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">City</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> stage? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><st1:stockticker><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">HIR</span></b></st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">. This disturbing play, directed by Jarrod Markman, shows what can happen when an abused wife, Paige <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">(Marcia Saunders) becomes an abuser herself after her husband’s debilitating stroke. She feeds husband<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;Arnold (John Morrison) mind altering tranquilizers, spanks him, dresses him in a woman’s nightgown<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;and then hoses him down like an animal when it’s time to give him his shower. &nbsp;Her life of domestic<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;revenge borders on the diabolical as she systematically destroys the lives of her two children, Max (Eppchez!),<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;a transgender male and her normal, ex-Marine son Issac</span><span style="font-size: 9pt;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 9pt;">(Kevin Meehan), just home from a war zone. Playwright&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9pt;">Taylor Mac, who describes himself</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">as “genderqueer, or a little bit of everything,” casts a satirically hard look at the ‘revolutionary’ world<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;of gender identity with its 52 genders and ‘anything goes’ philosophy. He does this with as much harshness<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;as he critiques the rabid <i>All in the Family</i> roots that once defined Paige’s family life. Eppchez! is charming<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;as Max and Saunders is so convincingly horrible as Paige that this reviewer had to fight fantasies about dousing her<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;with eggs or containers of potato salad. Mac, in commenting about </span><st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">HIR</span></st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">, wrote that “there’s this whole<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;generation of older, white men who are filled with rage right now, because<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;they watch Fox News all day long and they feel like they’re not part of the culture…” But in </span><st1:stockticker><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">HIR</span></b></st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> it is the men,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">albeit their faults, who are the sane ones. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.0in; tab-stops: 5.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 63.0pt; tab-stops: right 355.5pt left 5.0in;"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: .5in; tab-stops: right 5.5in;"><br /></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-12325377979605985672017-07-04T14:11:00.004-04:002017-07-04T14:11:48.578-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: 9pt;">ICON</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>CITY</b><b>&nbsp;THEATER JULY 2017</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>&nbsp; The Gospel According to Thomas Jefferson, Charles Dickens &amp; Count Leo Tolstoy.&nbsp;</b>Theology in five easy</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">pieces is the subject of this comedy by Scott Carter, which means a lot of back and forth about religion and</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;Jesus Christ. These three willful men from history, stuck in a room in the after life</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;(like the characters in Jean-Paul Sartre’s&nbsp;<i>No Exit),</i>&nbsp;have all written their own version&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">of the New Testament minusthe “superstitious parts” they’ve rejected. They argue with one another but nobody&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">emerges as winner&nbsp;of the debate.&nbsp;Carter’s script has the snappy, irreverence of his work as writer for</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;<i>Real Time with Bill Maher.</i>&nbsp;Andrew Criss as Tolstoy is powerful and peasant-like&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">while Gregory Issac lends&nbsp;the right ‘aristocratic touch’ to his portrayal of&nbsp;Jefferson. Brian McCann as Charles</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;Dickens has&nbsp;the zany wild writer thing down pat so that Dickens comes across as the most&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">contemporary-seeming&nbsp;man on stage. Unfortunately the play ends with a preachy condemnation of&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jefferson’s having owned slaves&nbsp;while “hypocritically” writing so eloquently about human rights</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">and equality. Carter’s script obsesses on&nbsp;Jefferson’s sins despite the fact that in the</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;18<sup>th</sup>&nbsp;Century the notion of equality did not apply to slaves. The tiresome practice of judging famous</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">people of the past based on contemporary standards and values should die a quick death.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;(The Lantern Theater, until July 2)&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a_cipWgYjnM/WVvaOtnTx7I/AAAAAAAABuU/EIyBZErLuWgfDBi0SO1-WWEB-CVZFu06wCLcBGAs/s1600/Discord-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="300" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a_cipWgYjnM/WVvaOtnTx7I/AAAAAAAABuU/EIyBZErLuWgfDBi0SO1-WWEB-CVZFu06wCLcBGAs/s320/Discord-poster.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Red Velvet</b>. Not the cake, mind you, but Lolita Chakrabarti’s drama of intrigue and riots on the streets of&nbsp;London</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;protesting the Slavery Abolition Act as the first black man to portray&nbsp;<i>Othello</i>&nbsp;takes to the stage. This&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">September 7-&nbsp;October 8, 2017</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;Lantern production will set the tone for the fall season which will include two additional politically oriented</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">dramas, the WW II Nazi-German play,&nbsp;<i>The Craftsman</i>&nbsp;by Bruce Graham and&nbsp;<i>Copenhagen</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;by Michael Frayn. Lantern’s spring 2018 program brings some fresh air into the house with its production</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;of the delightful French comedy,&nbsp;<i>Don’t Dress for Dinner.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Souvenir, A Fantasia on the Life of&nbsp;</b><b>Florence</b><b>&nbsp;Foster Jenkins.&nbsp;&nbsp;</b>Don’t believe it when they say that</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;money can’t buy everything or that persistence can’t win out over talent. A big Cash Cow certainly</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;opened doors for the highly untalented but charismatic socialite, Florence Jenkins, who achieved international</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;fame as a coloratura soprano. &nbsp;The productions at Walnut Street Theater’s Independence Studio on 3 just keep</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;getting better and better. (September 12-October 15, 2017).&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>American Canvas</b>. Whatever happened to this potentially marvelous play about&nbsp;Philadelphia&nbsp;painter</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Thomas Eakins?&nbsp;Philadelphia&nbsp;Theater Company had it all planned out but then substituted</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;<i>The Absolute Brightness of Leonard Pelkey</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;at the last minute. Will there even be a Thomas Eakins play on a Center City stage?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>HIR</b>. This disturbing play, directed by Jarrod Markman, shows what can happen when an abused wife, Paige</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Marcia Saunders) becomes an abuser herself after her husband’s debilitating stroke.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">She feeds husband&nbsp;Arnold (John Morrison) mind altering tranquilizers, spanks him, dresses</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;him in a woman’s nightgown&nbsp;and then hoses him down like an animal when it’s time to give</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;him his shower. &nbsp;Her life of domestic&nbsp;revenge borders on the diabolical as she systematically&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">destroys the lives of her two children, Max (Eppchez!),&nbsp;a transgender male and her normal, ex-Marine</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;son Issac &nbsp;(Kevin Meehan), just home from a war zone.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dC_CR437ve4/WVvZ1elQ4EI/AAAAAAAABuQ/GcA0XPhpxaQSs4lIkA2CZUNMpISj5VNwwCEwYBhgL/s1600/download%2B%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="266" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dC_CR437ve4/WVvZ1elQ4EI/AAAAAAAABuQ/GcA0XPhpxaQSs4lIkA2CZUNMpISj5VNwwCEwYBhgL/s400/download%2B%25283%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;Playwright Taylor Mac, who describes himself as “genderqueer, or a little bit of everything,” casts a satirically</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;hard look at the ‘revolutionary’ world&nbsp;of gender identity with its 52 genders and ‘anything goes’ philosophy.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">He does this with as much&nbsp;harshness&nbsp;as he critiques the rabid&nbsp;<i>All in the Family</i>&nbsp;roots that once&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">defined Paige’s family life.&nbsp;Eppchez! is charming&nbsp;as Max and Saunders is so convincingly horrible as&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Paige that this&nbsp;reviewer had to fight fantasies about dousing her&nbsp;with eggs or containers of potato salad. Mac,&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">in commenting about&nbsp;HIR, wrote that “there’s this whole&nbsp;generation of older, white men who are filled</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;with rage right now, because&nbsp;they watch Fox News all day long and they feel like they’re not part&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">of the culture…”&nbsp;But in&nbsp;<b>HIR</b>&nbsp;it is the men,albeit their faults, who are the sane ones.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: -1in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial; margin-right: 63pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-72350756091964628982017-06-18T20:40:00.003-04:002017-06-18T20:42:23.000-04:00HELP KEEP THE PHILADELPHIA WRITER'S CONFERENCE GREAT (2017)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<b>THE WRITERS’ CONFERENCE; </b></span><st1:stockticker><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">UPS</span></b></st1:stockticker><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></b><st1:stockticker><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">AND</span></b></st1:stockticker><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> DOWNS<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">THOM NICKELS <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">What about writers’ conferences? Are they valuable for people who want to write?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I felt very privileged to be included in the 69<sup>th</sup> annual Philadelphia Writers’&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Conference. My participation included a three day workshop on writing newspaper</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">columns. Although I also write fiction and history the newspaper column for me</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;has always been a staple like devoting time each morning to yoga, meditation&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">or writing a journal (which I’ve been doing since the late 1970s.) <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Overall, writers’ conferences can be a little daunting. Writers, generally,&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">work in private and the process requires a lot of solitude and self discipline.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The profession is not for those who cannot sit still or hate being alone for very</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;long periods of time. You work everyday, you put in your hours and then you&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">close up shop and do other things like get on with the “mundane” things of life. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Of course, if you are a writer or want to be a writer you have to be a reader.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">You have to keep reading. Read. Read. Read. The two things go together like</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;grilled cheese and tomato soup. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp; All this solitude—alone in your room banging at the computer—takes its toll.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">When you emerge for a breath of fresh air, you feel freed and sometimes a sense&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">of exuberance takes over. You relish your first human contact on the street whether</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;that contact is a neighbor or friend.&nbsp; Going to a writers’ conference where you&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">suddenly meet scores of other writers, most of whom may also be emerging from</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;cocoons of solitude, can be a little daunting. When you write everyday what</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;often creeps in is a sense of isolation that can sometimes give you the impression&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">that you are the only writer on the planet. I call this the Robinson Crusoe effect,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;and it’s real. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp; While the obvious benefits of a writers’ conference (networking, for instance)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;far outweigh the downside, there is a slight downside to it all. From my perspective</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;that downside might include a thematic emphasis at many writer’s conferences on</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;writing a best seller and getting your memoir or how to do book on <i>The New York</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>&nbsp;Times</i> bestseller list. Statically speaking, writing a best seller only happens to a very</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;small number of people. While writers’ conferences such as PWC offer amazing</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;practical advice and wisdom, they also can tap into the Great Myth that <i>even you&nbsp;</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>can write a best seller if you follow certain guidelines</i>, the most important guideline</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;being getting a literary agent and then following that agent’s advice to the letter. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; One of the most galvanizing events at PWC was the featured panel of literary&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">agents, all of them women and the majority of them in their late twenties.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The panel capped several hours of individual writer-agent sessions which took</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;place earlier in the day. These were 5 minute talk exchanges in which the writer</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;was supposed to make his or her pitch to the agent in question. You signed up</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;in advance to have your 5 minutes with this or that agent and then, like speed</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;dating, when your time came you went to the table where the agent was and you&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">started talking. It’s much like a job interview in which you promoted your</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;resume—“I am the best candidate,” etc.—and then did your best to convince&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">the agent that you had the manuscript of the century. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp; While the opportunity of meeting with </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">New York</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> literary agents was a&nbsp;</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">great thing, (thank you, PWC) the process struck me as a little depressing,&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">much like watching a job line of the desperately unemployed competing for</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;a small number of job openings. After all, the vast majority of writers at the&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">conference had never published a book so they’re goal was to accomplish</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;this at some point.&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp; During the Agent Q and A it was never specifically mentioned that writing&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">a best seller is really a fluke and the result of chance. Few writers set out to&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">write a best seller since there is no way that anyone can gage what the public</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;will want or even find desirable at any point in time. The public is a terrifically</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;fickle mistress, whimsical, unpredictable and untrustworthy.&nbsp; Jack Kerouac&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">wrote because he was an artist and because he had something to say not&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">because he wanted to get on a best seller list. Dostoevsky wrote because</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;he had a message to impart not because he wanted to be the 19<sup>th</sup> century&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Russian equivalent to sexy women’s fiction romance writers like Jackie Collins. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp; <b><i>This is not to say that most writers wouldn’t like a best seller but when your&nbsp;</i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b><i>whole goal as a writer is to write a best seller, something is lost.&nbsp; The agents&nbsp;</i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b><i>were asked over and over again: What do you want? How will you pay&nbsp;</i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b><i>attention to my manuscript? How can I get your attention? I will write</i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><b>&nbsp;anything you tell me to write. O powerful goddess! </b><o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; As I heard these questions I imagined Tolstoy in the room taking</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;notes—“She wants some inclusion of popular culture,” “She doesn’t</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;want any mention of the paranormal,” “She wants a commercially viable topic.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Put Mark Twain into this room and have him ask: “Ms. Agent, how can</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I even be more of a Mark Twain?” Imagine a question by an unpublished&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Thomas Merton: “Do you think a book about my conversion from atheism&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">to Catholicism would ever be a best seller?”&nbsp; (Answer: “Not on my watch, Tom.”)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; At times I felt that some of the writers in the room were willing to bypass&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">what they intuitively felt called to write if one of the agents had a better idea, a</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">more commercially viable idea.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; At the Q and A somebody asked the agents why there didn’t seem to be</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;any male literary agents.&nbsp; “Men don’t read,” one of the agents said. Then it</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;was surmised that men don’t like the comparatively low salaries that agents</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;receive, but is this true? How can these women survive in </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Manhattan</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> and pay</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;rent if agent salaries are so low? Do they have Hedge Fund husbands? And if</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">men don’t read is it&nbsp; because the educational culture in this country—the reading</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;assignments in middle school and high schools, for instance-—have literally</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;stopped assigning books to students that are about men. As a fellow newspaper</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;columnist told me at the conference: “I have three kids. They are all in middle</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;school and all the books they are assigned all have women central characters.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">There are no male central characters at all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp; If I could do one thing to make PWC better it would be to try and put a halt</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;to creeping PC ideology from infecting workshop material. &nbsp;At one workshop</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">a woman presenter/ author came down hard on Hemingway, inferring that</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;because he was a sexist and a big game hunter he was no longer relevant.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The not so subliminal suggestion was that Hemingway should be booted&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">from the literary canon.” Some people in the workshop agreed—“Yes, he’s</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;an awful sexist pig!”—while others insisted that moral judgments like this</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;belong in a Left Progressive burn out at UC Berkeley, not at a literary conference.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-90355471915862057322017-06-18T20:24:00.001-04:002017-06-18T20:30:48.708-04:00My Talk as the Featured Speaker at Walt Whitman's 198th Birthday Party, the Whitman House, Camden<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Walt Whitman was born on </span><st1:date day="31" month="5" year="1819"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">May 31, 1819</span></st1:date><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> in </span><st1:place><st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">West Hills</span></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">, </span><st1:state><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">New York</span></st1:state></st1:place></b><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><b> </b>and died on </span><st1:date day="26" month="3" year="1892"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">March 26, 1892</span></st1:date><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> in the </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mickel Street</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">house. Walt called this house a “shack.” </span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br />&nbsp;<span style="background: white;">He went to a </span></span><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Brooklyn</span></st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">public school but dropped out at age 11, a common thing in those one-room schoolhouse days. He didn’t write very much about his school experiences although he did manage to write a short story "Death in the School Room (A Fact).” The story detailed the frequent use of corporal punishment by teachers in those days. You might say that public school life then was the reverse of what it is today: tyranny by students.</span><br /><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QY-PjNPlGzY/WUcayTjdZmI/AAAAAAAABt4/UkqDLF8TRGo3MlEwz_XDfwOq0HD5Jqk3QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="360" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QY-PjNPlGzY/WUcayTjdZmI/AAAAAAAABt4/UkqDLF8TRGo3MlEwz_XDfwOq0HD5Jqk3QCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_6686.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">As a young writer, Walt liked to concentrate on themes like cruel or apathetic parents and their depressed, angst-ridden sons. One of the poet’s first jobs was in the printing office of Samuel E. Clements, a Quaker who wore an enormous broad-brimmed loghorn hat in the summer months. According to one of my favorite Whitman biographers, Jerome Loving, young Walt learned how to "parse and spell” at Clements’ composing table, the same way that Benjamin Franklin and Mark Twain learned to write.</span><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">The first newspapers in </span></span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> were simple operations where the reporter was also the printer. That later changed when the printing was done separately.</span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">Young Walt worked for a variety of printers. Later, he became a school teacher but returned to printing when he started his own newspaper, The Long Islander. The best part of having your own newspaper, Walt recalled, was delivering the papers on horseback. &nbsp;Walt’s earliest published poem was "Our Future Lot,” about the one common denominator that unites humankind: death. Walt also wrote essays about the evils of smoking, flogging, fashion, materialism and the stupidity of quarreling.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Walt was outside political parties and in many ways he was antagonistic towards them. He was also a poor man at least judged by modern standards. He had an immense sympathy for the lives of the poor but he enjoyed the company of the wealthy too. He was no fool. There are both mansions and shacks along the Open Road. &nbsp;&nbsp;</span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br /><br />As a young man he <span style="background: white;">was too much of a poet to be a good newspaper or editorial writer. One has only to read Democratic Vistas (1871) to see how much of a rambling prose writer he could be.&nbsp;</span></span><br /><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zd_NuUCLqiM/WUca9xfrsWI/AAAAAAAABt8/o0WyFdRkhmAq6XmMdko09PLtZk3njJ8KwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zd_NuUCLqiM/WUca9xfrsWI/AAAAAAAABt8/o0WyFdRkhmAq6XmMdko09PLtZk3njJ8KwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_6689.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">He opposed capital punishment and for a time was an advocate of the temperance movement, writing a novel, Franklin Evans; or The Inebriate. A Tale of the Times. The book was published in 1842 as a small novel and its author listed as Walter Whitman. The story was a sensationalistic screed against the evils of alcohol. Walt later disavowed the temperance movement. In his bohemian years when he lived in Manhattan, he would frequent Pfaff’s cellar restaurant and saloon, a carousing, boisterous ”arty” place that attracted artists of all types. Even then it is said that the poet would sit back and nurse a lager or two for the longest time while his friends drank themselves under the table. After he turned 60, on the advice of his doctor, Walt began to drink native American wines and champagne. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;When he lived on </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mickle Street</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> he was plagued by the appearance of an imposter, an artist who dressed as he dressed and who looked very much like him. The artist was the opposite of a teetotaler and could be seen wobbling around town. This wasn’t good for Walt’s reputation.&nbsp; People talked and gossip filled the </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Open Road</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Walt was, as his biographers note, a big giver of gifts because to love is to both give and receive. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><span style="background: white;">In 1857, The Brooklyn Daily Times described Walt as "a tall, well-built man [who] wore high boots over his pants, a jacket of heavy dark blue cloth, always left open to show a woolen undershirt, and a red handkerchief tied around his brawny neck.” Once when Walt spoke at an upscale </span></span><st1:place><st1:placetype><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Center</span></st1:placetype><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">City</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">literary club the organizer, writer Agnes Repplier, feared that his talk would be as roughhewn as his farmer’s clothes but it turned out that he spoke like a prophet and a mystic. Clothes don’t make the man—or the woman—on the </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Open Road</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">T<b>his </b></span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><b>Mickle Street</b></span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><b>house was known as a quiet and grassy place in the 1890s but Walt was not a good housekeeper.</b> Some at that time described the interior of the house as “filled with undesirable confusion.”&nbsp; Walt liked to scatter his papers on the floor, sometimes mixing them with the wood that he used for his stove. The </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Open Road</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> was sometimes messy but when friends tried to clean it up, Walt got annoyed. Walt did manage to have fresh flowers on the first floor window sill, however, and of course his canary was not endlessly rocking but endlessly singing.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;So many visitors came and went. The </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mickle Street</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">house became a place of pilgrimage. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp; A Japanese journalist, once visited him in the garden where we are gathered here today. They talked and feasted on canned lobster and </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">California</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">wine. Walt talked about the American West and especially of </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Denver</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">, the queen of Western cities. </span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">His masterpiece, Leaves of Grass, was very controversial during his lifetime, in some cases ending friendships and even getting him fired from his job in </span></span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Washington</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> with the Bureau of Indian Affairs. Critics either loved or hated his work. His book was banned in </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Boston</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> but his champions included many literary greats like Oscar Wilde, George Elliot and (to some degree), the cantankerous Ralph Waldo Emerson. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Walt had his literary biases. He had a distaste for so called gloomy writers like Edgar Allan Poe. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">It should be noted that when Walt moved into the </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mickle Street</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> house he became a home owner for the first time in his life at age 65. </span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">Walt gave a number of </span></span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Lincoln</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">lectures in </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> and </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Boston</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">after the president’s assassination. During the Civil War he worked for a number of years as a volunteer nurse in the Civil War hospitals of </span><st1:place><st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Washington</span></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span><st1:state><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">DC</span></st1:state></st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">where he looked after dying and wounded </span><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Union</span></st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> and Confederate soldiers. Walt favored the </span><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Union</span></st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> but he would not take sides when it came to his hospital work. His most intimate friend, Peter Doyle, for instance, was an ex-Confederate soldier who was present in Ford’s Theater when </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Lincoln</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> was assassinated. </span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">Walt always believed that the nation’s capital would be moved from </span></span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Washington</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> to one of the cities of the west. <b>"Why be content to have the Government lop-sided over on the </b></span><st1:place><b><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Atlantic</span></b></st1:place><b><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">, far, far from itself—the trunk [west], the genuine </span></b><st1:country-region><st1:place><b><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">America</span></b></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">?” he wrote.</span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">Before moving to Mickle Street, the poet stayed with friends at 1929 North Twenty-Second Street where in the summer he would sit with his host family on the stoop or doorstep.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tiwl5e86nrY/WUcbKSqfouI/AAAAAAAABuA/-1l02ENDaxgBVisjm_HOGtvm_W26xnmcACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tiwl5e86nrY/WUcbKSqfouI/AAAAAAAABuA/-1l02ENDaxgBVisjm_HOGtvm_W26xnmcACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_6684.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">Whitman’s voice, according to one friend, was "full-toned, rather high [and] baritone.” This same friend said that when Whitman read books "he would tear it to pieces—literally shed it leaves…”</span><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">One of the poet’s favorite pastimes was "keeping track of his fame in the press.”</span><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">Walt was obsessed with personal cleanliness but wherever he lived he created immense disorder with papers stacked on the floor and the curtains of his room twisted in the style of ropes to let in more sunlight.</span><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">Walt also spent a lot of time in </span></span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Germantown</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> and on the banks of the Wissahickon. He would ride the ferries on the </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Delaware</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> in all kinds of weather, leaning over the boat like an old ship captain. He claimed that he once hobbled halfway across the frozen </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Delaware</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> but then turned back when he sensed that the ice was getting thin. He observed, and commented on, the view of </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:placename><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">City Hall</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> during its construction. He liked to hang out at the base of </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Market Street</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> where he would converse with workers, roughnecks and tramps, but when evening came he would head to the opera. Before his death on </span><st1:date day="26" month="3" year="1892"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">March 26, 1892</span></st1:date><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">, he was able to purchase a wheelchair on credit from Wanamaker’s Department store.</span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">And who knew that Bram Stoker used Walt as his character study for Dracula?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Walt grew cranky in his old age but since he had a lot of aches and pains, he can be excused for his bad moods. The Open Road is not a bed of roses. It comes with thorns, closed gas stations and occasional road blocks. Bad weather is to be expected. The thing is to keep moving and wait for the sunshine despite the road’s many irritations. Walt’s temper could be a terrible thing, but as fast as it went up, it went down. And he was always ready to forgive people. Good lesson for all </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Open Road</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> travelers, I’d say. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">If age 40 is the new 20, and age 60 is the new 40, then age 70 must be the new 45 or 50. But Walt at 70 was really an old man --- people did not age well in the 1890s. Walt was often sleepless and suffering…from 1888 to 1889 he was totally house bound, trapped in his Mickle Street shack, anchored to the big chair in the front room. Many critics surmise that he survived on his </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Open Road</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">memories. Thinking back and remembering again. &nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /><span style="background: white;">At the time of Walt’s death in his bed on </span></span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mickle Street</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> (an autopsy was preformed on the first floor of the house where there was also a viewing), he was the most famous poet in </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">The </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Open Road</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">appeared to be over but in reality it was just beginning. Our </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;">Open Road</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 11.0pt;"> graybeard is more alive today than ever. &nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-52889796952705769412017-06-18T20:07:00.003-04:002017-06-18T20:18:51.015-04:00ICON MAGAZINE THEATER JUNE 2017<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Gypsy. </b>Often cited<b> as </b>the greatest American musical, this rollicking bio epic is loosely based on the life of famous striptease artist, Gypsy Rose Lee. It’s at the <st1:city><st1:place>Arden</st1:place></st1:city> stage (till June 18) with all of Stephen Sondheim’s lyrics intact, including classics “<i>Everything’s Coming up Roses</i>,” and “<i>Let Me Entertain You.”</i>&nbsp; Five-time Barrymore Award winner Mary Martello plays Gypsy’s mother, the tyrannical Mama Rose, who will stop at nothing to ensure that her kids succeed in show business. The great American poet Hart Crane (<i>The Bridge</i>) was Lee’s <st1:city><st1:place>New York City</st1:place></st1:city>neighbor for a while and, inspired by Lee, wrote the following lines about his favorite burlesque house: <i>Outspoken buttocks in pink beads/Invite the necessary cloudy clinch/Of Bandy eyes.</i> The <st1:city><st1:place>Arden</st1:place></st1:city> should resurrect other forgotten but equally famous musicals like Richard Rodgers’ famous 1943 Broadway hit, <st1:state><st1:place><i>Oklahoma</i></st1:place></st1:state><i>!</i> &nbsp;&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AYL-TveCaj0/WUcYVb8pRpI/AAAAAAAABtk/bFPTTrB0-4Mn9zop5erCgGTCA6Sm0IwqgCLcBGAs/s1600/Gypsy_3-627x360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="627" height="366" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AYL-TveCaj0/WUcYVb8pRpI/AAAAAAAABtk/bFPTTrB0-4Mn9zop5erCgGTCA6Sm0IwqgCLcBGAs/s640/Gypsy_3-627x360.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>&nbsp;Uncle Vanya. </b>When it comes to Russian plays, Philadelphia’s usual answer is: Chekhov! Hedgerow Theater did Uncle Vanya in February 2107, and the Lantern Theater did its own version of The Seagull in 2010. Chekov’s Seagull came up again in EgoPo Classic Theater’s amazing February production. As a short story writer, Chekhov rarely disappoints (Chekhovian wisdom: “If you are afraid of loneliness, don’t marry”), but city theaters would do well to look into other Russian playwrights like Pushkin, Gogol and Solzhenitsm. Uncle Vanya is the story of a celebrated professor and his complicated family. Quintessence Theater Group (215-987-4450). Till June 18. &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>BalletX. &nbsp;&nbsp;</b>Three innovative works opened BalletX’s Spring Series 2017. In Schachmatt (Cayetano Soto, choreographer) a delightful but all too short French themed, J’attendrai by Rina Ketty set the stage for a dynamite dance Peter Gunn Theme by Jack Constanzo. The less than enthralling Cuban Mambo by Perez Prado (we wanted more French numbers) was enhanced by dancers like Megan Dickinson and Gary W. Jeter II who kept all eyes glue to the stage. Often when dancers express elemental states of joy, suffering and desire there’s not much of a need for an accompanying narrative but sometimes only words can bring the abstract into focus. This was evident in segment two, the world premier of <i>In Between the Passing</i> (Tommie-Waheed Evans) which played into a raw, athletic sensibility while exploring expressions of time and mortality. Symphony No. 3 Op. 36 by Henryk Gorecki had this writer making up his own internal narrative to go with the dancers’ footprints. The last segment, <i>The Last Glass</i> (Matthew Neenan) was a slightly more complicated piece reminiscent of the drama and cacophony of <st1:city><st1:place>Philadelphia</st1:place></st1:city>’s streets. Throughout this BalletX opener, I kept hoping for costume changes—bicycle pants, yellow flowered vests with poka dot ties or even a procession of umbrellas and red balloons to break the monotony of the sackcloth-like dancer’s tunic. &nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The White Devil</b>. &nbsp;When John Webster’s play premiered on a dreary, cold winter night in <st1:city><st1:place>London</st1:place></st1:city> in 1612 there was no standing ovation. The <st1:city><st1:place>London</st1:place></st1:city> audience was less than thrilled and Webster’s work, including <i>The Duchess of Malfi,</i> faded into obscurity until the 1920s. The Philadelphia Artists’ Collective production at the Broad Street Ministry was a genuine theatrical implosion. &nbsp;Webster is Shakespeare unhinged. Murder, betrayal, more murder, random stabbings, a fencing match and poisoned helmets, not to mention a penitent home for whores and a liturgical fashion show (a la Fellini’s <i>Roma</i>) showcased the corruption and savagery of the male dominated English Court. Act I was a tangled mass of confusion as the play’s 101 plots and subplots slowly came into focus but Act II was as invigorating as the classic B film, <i>Faster Pussycat! Kill Kill!”</i>&nbsp; Charlotte Northeast (Vittoria/Conjuror) is a natural in any Elizabethan setting; Dan Hodge (Flamineo) might as well be called a one man SNL; David Pica (Lodovico/Marcello) was almost too comfortable with the diabolical while the forceful J.J. Van Name (Cornelia) dominated the stage with her classic&nbsp; authoritativeness. &nbsp;Damon Bonetti’s direction showed artistic verve although if I had one wish it would be that the trend of women (Lexie Braverman as Giovanni) playing the part of boys would come to an end. &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><span style="font-size: large;">&nbsp;<b>The Absolute Brightness of Leonard Pelkey. &nbsp;</b>Pelkey, a 14 year old flamboyant gay teen is the victim of a hate crime. He wore rainbow sneakers, was a makeup artist and advised women four times his age how to dress. Written and preformed by James Lecesne and directed by Tony Speciale, at times the script has a contrived “activist” feel as if co-produced by the Human Rights Campaign. There are also moments when it veers off course as if a dramaturge advised Lecesne to “stop talking about the boy so much.” Lecesne’s immense talent makes this theatre experience worthwhile. He’s mesmerizing to watch and the 70 minutes goes fast. (Philadelphia Theatre Company until June 4) &nbsp;<b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 45.0pt;"><br /></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-46954163992138787432017-04-19T10:55:00.005-04:002017-04-19T10:55:55.802-04:00Philadelphia's Plastic Club and Sketch Club Take a Nose Dive<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<b>Some time ago I wrote a column about Philadelphia’s whacky reception groupies, </b>or people who seem to spend a lot of time trying to find art receptions in the city that offer free food and drink. While everyone enjoys the delights of an opening reception, I was writing about a core group of serious food “hunters and gatherers” who make it a point to go from reception to reception and gather up as much as free stuff as possible. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Well, there’s another side to that coin and it’s this: what about the various art venues in the city that have traditionally always offered food and drink during their opening receptions. How are they holding up? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; They are not holding up well, according to the latest reports. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Many of the city’s art galleries and other cultural venues have cut back drastically on giveaway food and booze during their opening receptions and in some cases the contrast to a few years ago is shocking. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Consider The Plastic Club at </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">247 S. Camac Street</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">. The Club has always been famous for its monthly Sunday afternoon group exhibitions.&nbsp; For years club members would contribute various food dishes to this monthly event so that on that one Sunday a month patrons could expect a little something to eat while viewing the new exhibition. Every month was different depending on the food flow, but thick or thin there was always something to nibble on. There was also inexpensive but ample boxed wine, beer and soda. These famous Sunday art parties continued for hours, often spilling out onto club’s fantastic backyard patio. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <b>But just a few months ago a new administration decided that the old Plastic Club Sunday parties were too lavish and that people were coming just for the food, booze and ambience. It was also reported to me that the new president didn’t think it was appropriate that people were drinking wine or beer in the late afternoons, never mind that this had been the custom at the Club for years—and years. The Plastic Club’s new Board pulled the plug in a radical way because now the monthly events are down to stick pretzels and Donny and Marie Osmond lemonade, if that. Welcome to </b></span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Salt Lake City</b></span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>! </b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; The DaVinci Art Galley at 7<sup>th</sup> and Catherine Streets used to have bountiful opening receptions but when a new and younger board took over the receptions were paired down like an onion on the chopping block. Today, the galley might offer a chip or two and maybe even a sip of wine but not much else.&nbsp; Can a big bowl of Lay’s potato chips really cost that much money? And why not spring for a cheap generic red jug of red wine? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Sometimes the most successful art galleries are the cheapest in terms of what they give back to patrons who come to their events. These big name galleries will often advertise their huge opening exhibitions, in many cases even calling these exhibitions a “party,” but without the usual party accruements. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp; They are more like Mennonite picnics. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 30.0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 30.0pt; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Cheese is too expensive so they opt for pretzel sticks<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 30.0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 30.0pt; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">They may offer wine but if they do there will no food, not even a potato chip. The new Spartan philosophy says you can’t have both.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 30.0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 30.0pt; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">So where’s the party? There is no party. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <b>The Philadelphia Sketch Club at 235 S. Camac also had Sunday afternoon opening exhibitions that included a zany variety of food and drink offerings. Like the Plastic Club, the Sketch Club was always consistent in its food and drink offerings until there was a change. Needless to say, the Sunday crowds now at both Camac institutions are much smaller. If the new boards of these two iconic </b></span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Philadelphia</b></span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><b> institutions wanted a more Spartan environment, they certainly got it.&nbsp;</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Theater press receptions have remained largely intact although financial difficulties have impacted the scope of receptions offered by the Philadelphia Theatre Company.&nbsp;&nbsp; In years past </span><st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">PTC</span></st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> receptions were lavish banquets and the talk of the town. Today they are Salvation Army “thin” by comparison. Throughout the years, the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Wilma</span></st1:placename><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span><st1:placename><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Theater</span></st1:placename></st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> has remained amazingly constant in its press reception offerings, as has the </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Arden</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> and Lantern Theatre. In many instances, smaller and newer theaters like the two theaters at The Drake Towers provide some of the best theater and receptions in the city.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; There have been cut backs at this year’s <i>Arts Unleashed</i>, the University of the Art’s annual fundraiser for student scholarships. Traditionally press was always permitted to invite a guest to this mega event but that has changed under a new administration. The Spartan new arrangement even called for tighter security measures to clamp down on student party crashers. In years past, serious party crashers could wait until Art Unleashed was almost over and then enter the building and join the party but this year the ticket process was more </span><st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">TSA</span></st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> than semi- open borders. Many of the city’s infamous party crashers were missing from this year’s Arts Unleashed, thanks to tightened security.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; What all of these art galleries and massive public fundraising events like Arts Unleashed that have cut back have in common is this: they are now being run by people in their late twenties or thirties. One could draw some interesting conclusions here perhaps.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; The Fabric Workshop is an iconic city institution that garners an intense loyalty throughout the city. Blessed with money and prestige, you’d think that opening receptions there would be occasions to remember. Well, they used to be occasions to remember but all too often success can spoil. These days a Fabric Workshop opening Reception is often a non-reception. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The two art galleries that still offer art patrons decent or ample reception fare are CFEVA at The Barclay, </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">237 S. 18<sup>th</sup> Street, Suite 3A</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">, and E-Moderne Gallerie at 2nd and Arch Streets. With their great opening receptions that usually feature great art, these two galleries are to be commended because they have not gone the way of The Plastic Club.&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I get press releases on a weekly basis from PR firms publicizing music, jazz and Sugar House Casino events.&nbsp; Sugar House Casino press events are rarely noteworthy. There might be a cash bar and some free pretzel sticks but most of what they offer are speeches, ribbon cuttings and a few words spoken by a “celebrity.” And then it’s over.&nbsp; Not even a free cup of coffee. You’d think that this huge money palace on the </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Delaware</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> would be far more generous when it comes to things like this.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; <i>Sugar House is cheap.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Recently I went to a great event with a fellow writer and afterwards we headed off to the much talked about after party. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp; After parties are usually bad if the main party has been spectacular. This after party was held at Voyeur, a </span><st1:place><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Center</span></st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">City</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> after hour’s gay club where a glass of red wine goes for ten dollars. There was no food at this after party but you did get a wrist band which enabled you to avoid paying the cover charge to get into the place. The experience was a total headache as the brassy chaotic and very monochromic, pounding music suggested that the only way to deal with the place was by taking some kind of drug. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; A better way to describe this so called ‘after party’ would have been something along the lines of: <i>If you want to hang out later at Voyeur, then join us, but please bring your own party supplies</i>.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</span></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-49583385611176307822017-03-27T22:16:00.003-04:002017-03-27T22:26:57.260-04:00Bedbugs, a Modern Plague<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Bedbugs have invaded thousands of </span></b><st1:city><st1:place><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></b></st1:place></st1:city><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> homes and institutions<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;and the situation is serious. </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">, in fact, is one of the worst cities in<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;the nation for bedbugs. Don’t ask me why our fair city is plagued with these<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;creatures. Is there something in the water here, or do Philadelphians have a<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;special problem that people in other cities do not have? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 21.35pt; margin-bottom: 20.95pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 14.5pt;">&nbsp; The pest-control company, Orkin, compiled a list of the 50 worst American cities for bed bugs and </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 14.5pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 14.5pt;"> has been ranked as number nine. Orkin based its ranking on the number of bed bug treatments they performed on residences and businesses in urban areas between 2015 and 2016.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 21.35pt; margin-bottom: 20.95pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 14.5pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; “We have more people affected by bed bugs in the </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 14.5pt;">United States</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 14.5pt;"> now than ever before. They were virtually unheard of in the U.S. 10 years ago,” Orkin’s Entomologist Ron Harrison told CBS3.&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Bedbugs begin life as microscopic entities and then, depending on how<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;much human blood they consume, they increase in size and weight until,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;in some instances, they become as large as a small or medium sized cockroach.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;Bedbugs do not fly but they climb or jump onto things, mainly wooden and <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">cloth surfaces where they then take great delight in laying their despicable eggs. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; If they happen to find a home in your mattress, they will bite you during<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;the night. They bite in clusters of three, meaning you will notice three little<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;dots or bruise like blemishes on your skin. One bite is never enough for<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;these creatures although they can live off their first 3-bite meal for a long<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;time before their blood lust returns. It doesn’t take all that long for them<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;to grow from micro <i>hard to see</i> bugs into significant creepy crawlers. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Welcome to my nightmare, as a famous rocker once intoned.&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; These athletic pests can even jump on you and hitch a ride on your<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;jacket or sweater and then jump off later when you enter a new house<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;or residence. More spaces to colonize, after all. When they park themselves<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;in a new place they begin their cycle of destruction all over again, laying<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;eggs and hiding in mattresses, woodwork, sofas and curtains until something<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;or someone exposes them. Then you’re likely to see them exit en masse, often<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;in large shocking streams that rival the congestion of ant farms.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; One does not have to be dirty or a lowlife sleaze to get bedbugs. Bedbugs <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">were common in colonial </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> and throughout </span><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Europe</span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">. In many cases<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;people learned to live with them. Growing up, I had elderly aunts tell me<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;before going to bed, “Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” as if bedbugs were sweet<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;little things with smiley faces and antennas made of chocolate that helped<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;you sleep.&nbsp; I had never seen a bedbug as a kid so I had no idea what my<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;aunts were talking about. Ticks, bees, spiders and moths I knew, but<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;bedbugs seemed to be a Grimm’s Fairy Tale concoction.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Until I moved to the city… <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; When my friend Sean showed me a bedbug for the first time I could<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;barely make out its shape it was so small. We were moving furniture <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">into his new house when he went to move his bed headboard and a bed<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;bug crawled out. A swarm of bugs followed, much larger in size.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;Sean</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;was so disgusted he went into the bathroom to wash his</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;hands and exclaim</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;loudly before the mirror: “Oh no, not bed bugs!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br />&nbsp;<i><b> Sean is such a clean fanatic that people entering his house&nbsp;</b></i></span><br /><i><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">are required</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;to take off their shoes and put on special booties&nbsp;</span></b></i><br /><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">so that they won’t dirty</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;up his floors.&nbsp; When he had a&nbsp;</span></b></i><br /><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">number of contractors&nbsp;</span></b></i><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">working&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">on his kitchen&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">last spring he</span></b></i><br /><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;made them all take off their boots</span></b></i><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;and put on&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">these wrap</span></b></i><br /><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;around</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;booties that tie up in fancy bows.&nbsp;</span></b></i><br /><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></b></i><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Shockingly, the&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">contractors complied like</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;little children.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></b></i><br /><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Half of Sean’s</span></b></i><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;living room furniture</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;is covered up in plastic</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;so&nbsp;</span></b></i><br /><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">every time you sit down&nbsp;</span></b></i><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">in his house you hear</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;a series of crinkles.</span></b></i><br /><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Generally he hates having people</span></b></i><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;into his house because he</span></b></i><br /><i><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;equates&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">people with dirt.&nbsp;</span></b></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; So how did someone this clean get bedbugs? <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He got them from living in </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">, of course, because at any point <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">during his travels about the city he could have touched a railing or<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;banister or even brushed up against someone’s curtains or coat when<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;<i>an eager to jump</i> bed bug leaped on him and hitched a ride back to<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;his house where it then deposited its eggs.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Sean, of course, had to throw out the bed’s headboard but this was<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;only the beginning. He did a thorough house check and found small <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">colonies of bugs in some uncovered pieces of furniture. He waged<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;an expensive, never ending war: he sprayed, vacuumed, washed and<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;rewashed and then he wrapped the as yet uncontaminated pieces of <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">furniture in air tight plastic wrap so the bedbugs couldn’t claim it as<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;their own. Some of his good furniture had to be thrown away. <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <b>Bedbugs have only recently become a city plague</b>&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">because over a</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;decade ago there was an effective killer spray</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;that killed them in a</span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> minute. This powerful spray</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;nicked the problem in the</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;bud and saved countless valuable</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;pieces of furniture from the trash</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;heap. Then there was the</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;"awful" discovery that the killer component</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">in this spray</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp;was DDT, a cancer causing agent.&nbsp; The effective, miracle</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">spray was then banned with nothing of any value to replace it despite <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">the rash of so called sprays that promise to do the job just as effectively.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; <i><b>All lies, of course. </b></i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;As <i>The Daily Caller</i> reported, “…Why are bed bugs back? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Though they’ve been sucking humans’ blood since at least ancient<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;</span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Greece</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">, bed bugs became virtually extinct in </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> following the<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;invention of pesticide DDT. There were almost no bed bugs in the <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">United States</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> between World War II and the mid-1990s. Around <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">when bed bugs started their resurgence, Congress passed a major <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">pesticides law in 1996 and the Clinton EPA banned several classes <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">of chemicals that had been effective bed bug killers.”<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica&quot;; font-size: 14pt;">&nbsp; <b><i>Thank you, Bill Clinton. <o:p></o:p></i></b></span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;The new sprays, as Sean discovered, do little or nothing because<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;they simply aren’t strong enough. It also doesn’t help that bedbugs<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;go into winter/cold weather hibernation, a despicable deep coma <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">sleep in which they dream of sucking blood once the warm weather</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;approaches. In the hot weather, they reemerge unless you do the heat&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">ventilation route. </span><span style="background: white; color: #1f2027; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 13.5pt;">Heat</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1f2027; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 13.5pt;">&nbsp;remediation requires only one treatment. It&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1f2027; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 13.5pt;">utilizes fans and heaters</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1f2027; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 13.5pt;">&nbsp;to raise the temperature of the infested&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1f2027; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 13.5pt;">area to 120 degrees.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1f2027; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 13.5pt;">&nbsp;The temperature is maintained for hours to</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1f2027; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 13.5pt;">&nbsp;ensure that the bed bugs</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1f2027; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 13.5pt;">&nbsp;and the eggs are killed. This is a cumbersome&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1f2027; font-family: &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 13.5pt;">and expensive process.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Homeless shelters</span></b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> are notorious for bed bugs despite the fact that they<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;undergo periodic exterminations.&nbsp; The constant influx of new people<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;in shelters all but guarantees new incarnations of jumping bugs eager<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;to inhabit a fresh piece of wood in which to build their nasty nation of<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;blood sucking bottom feeder vampires.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The most troubling part of this story is that there’s no solution to the<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;bedbug problem unless we bring back the all powerful DDT spray. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Some cities and municipalities are considering doing this because their<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;bed bug problems are that great. It’s sad to think that&nbsp; DDT may be<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;the only real answer, especially in our hometown where bed bugs <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">seem to be everywhere, most notably on the coat of the person <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">sitting next to you on the Frankford-Market El.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Today, Sean is bedbug free but the experience has made him<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">even more of a clean fanatic. Visitors to his home, even those<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;contractors I mentioned, have to go through a <i>doubled up</i> vetting<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;process. While Sean hasn’t gone to the extreme length of asking<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;people to remove their clothing or demand that they put on double<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;booties and gloves, I fully expect that this will be the case if he ever</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;gets bed bugs again.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -1.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -81.0pt;"><br /></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-77574276265545795442017-03-27T22:04:00.005-04:002017-03-27T22:04:43.924-04:00Mother Divine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<b>On March 14 of this year, <i>The New York Times</i> ran the following headline: <i>Mother Divine Who Took Over Her Husband’s Cult, Dies at 71.</i> Mother Divine actually died on March 4 but it took <i>The Times</i> a while to print an obit. &nbsp;</b><i><b>&nbsp;</b><o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;I met Mother Divine some years ago when I visited her estate at Woodmont in <st1:place><st1:city>Gladwyne</st1:city>, <st1:state>Pennsylvania</st1:state></st1:place>. At that time I teamed up with an artist friend who wanted to set up his easel and paintbrush and paint the Woodmont mansion for a possible book project. &nbsp;&nbsp;Mother was gracious during that visit. We were not only invited to dinner—Mother’s followers called it a Holy Communion service—but we were told that we could have a special interview with Mother after the meal. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The mansion is a multi-room French Gothic masterpiece, designed by Quaker architect William Price for <st1:city>Philadelphia</st1:city>industrialist Alan J, Wood, Jr., in 1892. After the demise of the Gilded Age and the selling off of many of <st1:city>Philadelphia</st1:city>’s old mansions, it was sold to Father Divine for a relatively humble $75,000.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Woodmont then became the headquarters for the Peace Mission Movement. </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Peace Mission Movement began as a force for peace and goodwill between the races. The movement, as Mother Divine noted, was to make people “industrious, independent, tax-paying citizens instead of consumers of tax dollars on the welfare rolls.”&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Since the passing of Father Divine in 1965, the Peace Mission Movement has been under the direction of Father Divine’s second wife, Edna Rose Ritchings, a white Canadian woman he met in 1946.&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Father Divine’s greatest contributions are probably in the area of Civil Rights. As early as 1951, he advocated for reparations for the descendents of slaves and for integrated neighborhoods. Decades before the Civil Rights Act, before the NAACP, Stokley Carmichael, Angela Davis and the Black Panthers, Father Divine preached peaceful non-violent social change.&nbsp;&nbsp; Unfortunately, Father Divine’s “preaching” work on behalf of Civil Rights is a mostly understated fact. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">&nbsp;Father Divine’s marriage to the second Mother Divine (the first was an African American woman named Peninniah, who died shortly after the Woodmont purchase) was a celibate affair, as members, both married and unmarried, are prohibited from having sex, or using alcohol and tobacco.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When I first saw Mother Divine she was descending the grand staircase in the mansion. She was dressed in a full blown white 19<sup>th</sup> Century ball gown while being escorted by a sentry dressed in red who also wore a small red beret tilted to the side in the style of Che Guevara. The sentry was a thin black woman and Mother was white--- she had Arctic snow hair and skin much paler than the color of Dove soap. She carried herself with a confident elegance, her head erect and her eyes focused on some invisible point on the horizon. Her walk down the staircase was so slow it called to mind the walking styles of European aristocracy, namely Queen Elizabeth II of <st1:country-region>England</st1:country-region>.&nbsp; </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<b>Emblems</b> of royalty were very evident in the mansion, not only in the grandiose architecture and design of the place but in the studied attentiveness and seriousness of Mother’s other sentries, who also wore cocked berets. The sentries were stationed throughout the house like Swiss Guards in the <st1:country-region>Vatican</st1:country-region>. The atmosphere definitely evoked the formality of a royal court because it was obvious that the sentries would not tolerate any foolish action, like presupposing it was okay to sit on the furniture, which of course we did not do.&nbsp; </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In situations like this, the human tendency is to be formal yourself even though I longed to see just one of the sentries smile or show some warmth. ‘Feel good’ camaraderie is not in the Woodmont style book, however. The sentries, when they did smile, did it in a fixed way as if they were ready to retract it and turn it upside down at a moment’s notice. I knew this to be the case when I asked one of them, a Miss something-or-other, if I could take a photograph. My request was met with a stern “No, you may not take photographs,” as if I should have known better. I replied with a somewhat stunned “Oh… okay,” the ‘Oh’ in my reply signaling my dismay at such a silly rule, since what could possibly be wrong with taking a snapshot? </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Often the ‘secondary’ people around any high ranking leader have an inflated sense of self importance and behave in a manner that may “out-formalize” the personal style of the big boss, the very person one would expect to flaunt <i>attitude.</i>Mother Divine had an easy and light spirit and it was easy to see a mischievous glint in her eyes. She was quick to smile and laugh but yet she was surrounded by stiff wooden Cigar Store Indian types who were quick to scold. .</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Dinner began when Mother rang a large hand bell. A female cook in a white uniform produced the platters from a small kitchen directly behind Mother. Numerous platters of salad items, including a wide assortment of vegetables, condiments and sauces, set the pace for more complicated platters offering meats and fish, rice, potatoes, breads, more vegetables and meats until at last diners could devote their attention to the business at hand, eating, rather than the elaborate ritual of passing platters. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When platters were passed from one diner to another, they never touched the table. Diners were not allowed to hold two platters at the same time, so the synchronization of the plates had the movements of a dance. While this was going on, diners listened to old audio tapes of Father Divine sermons. The mostly elderly crowd, men in suits and women in Peace Mission uniforms, combined eating with the singing of hymns. A few elderly white women, European by birth, clapped their hands in sing song fashion in between mouthfuls, reminding me of the antics of patients in a mental institution. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<b>After dinner,</b> Mother invited my artist friend and me into her private office where she showed us old photographs of Father Divine. A sentry stood beside her as the four of us chatted. I found myself occasionally looking out of Mother’s office window at the tomb of Father, believed by followers to be God incarnate. The conversation was not profound but filled with cursory pleasantries. There were even several photo ops in which Mother snuggled up against my artist friend and I. Photographs were no longer an issue because the sentry who greeted us in the foyer was not the one standing by Mother’s side.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; By the time my friend and I left Woodmont we had the feeling that the sentries around Mother were much like a covert army. It was like the feeling you get when you visit a couple who are in a bad marriage but who put on a happy face when company comes. You can somehow feel the tension and repressed emotion coming from the couple but there’s no way you can prove that it exists. &nbsp;Mother, after all, was sitting on a vast fortune and a huge empire. She was elderly and had to be helped around the mansion on her daily walks around the estate.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;While in a cab leaving the estate, we passed Mother as she began her daily walk, escorted by several dour looking sentries. During our chat with Mother she appeared strong but seeing her outdoors was a profound change. She not only looked weak and vulnerable but she seemed to be almost totally under the care and direction of the women propping her up. &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The word ‘care’ in this sense can also be a code word for power and control. We have all heard stories of what happens to some elderly mothers when their care is relinquished to their children, and how one child can claim power of attorney and have the mother committed to a nursing home while her assets are funneled into other family bank accounts. &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;My friend and I were certain that Mother liked us and so we were very surprised when we were turned down by a secretarial sentry when we called later to schedule a follow up interview. The sentry told us that we were not permitted to visit. No reason was given but it was obvious that we were no longer welcome at Woodmont. &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;Since that time we have both felt that Mother was really a prisoner behind pearly gates and that she was not acting as a free agent. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;This is why I think it is a good thing that <i>The New York Times</i> called the Peace Mission a cult. </div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: -.25in; margin-top: 0in;">&nbsp; &nbsp;</div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-90731897036506961982017-03-07T10:03:00.000-05:002017-03-07T10:03:03.364-05:00Mother Divine: The Real Philadelphia Story<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">THE </span><st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">REAL</span></st1:stockticker><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">PHILADELPHIA</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> STORY<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">By Thom Nickels<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Contributing Editor<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Woodmont is not only a world set apart, it is a world with a history. Located in </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Montgomery</span></st1:placename><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">County</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">, this 72-acre estate is the home base of The Peace Mission Movement, started by Father Divine in 1919 in </span><st1:place><st1:city><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Sayville</span></st1:city><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">, </span><st1:state><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">New York</span></st1:state></st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;The mansion itself is a multi-room French Gothic masterpiece, designed by Quaker architect William Price for </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> industrialist Alan J, Wood, Jr., in 1892. After the demise of the Gilded Age and the selling off of many of </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">’s old mansions, it was sold to Father Divine for a relatively humble $75,000.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Woodmont then became the headquarters for the Peace Mission Movement. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; As the rush of 21<sup>st</sup> century events seems to pummel the world towards some kind of catastrophe, Woodmont has remained outside the fray. Since the passing of Father Divine in 1965, the Peace Mission Movement has been under the direction of Father Divine’s second wife, Edna Rose Ritchings, a white Canadian woman he met in 1946.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Peace Mission Movement began as a force for peace and goodwill between the races, as an incentive to make-- as Mother Divine notes in her small book, “The Peace Mission Movement”-- people “industrious, independent, tax-paying citizens instead of consumers of tax dollars on the welfare rolls.” In the area of theology, many of Father Divine’s followers believe that he was/is God. In the past, this fact has annoyed many members of the press and resulted in bad publicity for the Movement. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Father Divine’s greatest contributions are probably in the area of Civil Rights. As early as 1951, he advocated for reparations for the descendents of slaves and for integrated neighborhoods. Decades before the Civil Rights Act, before the NAACP, before Stokley Carmichael, Angela Davis or the Black Panthers, Father Divine preached peaceful non-violent social change.&nbsp;&nbsp; Unfortunately, Father Divine’s “preaching” work on behalf of Civil Rights is a mostly understated fact. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;Father Divine’s marriage to the second Mother Divine (the first was an African American woman named Peninniah, who died shortly after the Woodmont purchase) was a celibate affair, as members, both married and unmarried, are prohibited from having sex, or using alcohol and tobacco.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; An invitation to attend the monthly Sunday banquet at Woodmont, which the Peace Mission Movement considers a Holy Communion service, was extended to me and </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> artist Noel Miles because of a book we are working on.&nbsp; Miles had gone to Woodmont before, with brush and canvass, to capture the marvelous interiors for our project when Mother Divine extended the invitation.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When the day of the pilgrimage arrived, we boarded the R-7 for Bryn Mawr, and then hailed a cab to Gladwyne, where Woodmont is located. Our cabbie, a rather youngish urban type who seemed more suited for a city taxi than navigating the lost vistas of Montgomery County, had no idea where Woodmont was, but, like a true shyster, he tried to hide this fact by driving fast. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When it became apparent that he was winging it, Miles made him get his bearings. By happenstance or miracle, we happened to notice the Woodmont address etched simply and unobtrusively on a stone wall. The taxi then took the long rustic driveway through a corridor of trees. Along the road to the mansion I noticed a few clumsily etched hand carved road signs, the kind you’d see in a Boy Scout camp circa 1960. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;A wide clearing in the brush brought the mansion into view.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; . <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">At this point, the cabbie could barely suppress an “Ahhhhh!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Holy Royal Family Highgate! Or was this some unnamed palace on the </span><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Thames</span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> transferred via UFO to fairly predictable </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Montgomery</span></st1:placename><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">County</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> where the only queen had been Hope Montgomery Scott? I spotted an elderly white man sitting on a chair—or was it a tree stump?—near what looked to be a shed. A watchman of some sort, very polite. Did he sleep in the shed? I was full of questions. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">The cabbie let us off in the middle of the massive semi circular drive. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;A small black woman in a beret and white gloves with a “V” embossed on her blouse, waved to us as we approached the mansion. She was perched several heads above us, sentry-like, on the portico landing. Shades of </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Buckingham</span></st1:placename><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Palace</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> formality. Her smile was beatific but steely; her thin body conjuring images of self denial. Introductions were made and up the steps we went, the cab idling as if the cabbie wanted a longer glimpse.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “Call if you want a pick up,” he shouted from the cab.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; We were not banking on a pickup but a ride home, or at least a ride to the station from one of the dinner guests.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;Inside the grand reception room, we saw museum quality gilt framed paintings, lush carpets and oak woodwork. Miss Faith, the sentry of the steps, explained the history of the house. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; We noticed a mammoth framed portrait of Mother and Father Divine hanging over the reception area like an iconostasis in a cathedral.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “My one aim is to live a virtuous life under the Personal jurisdiction of FATHER DIVINE,” Mother Divine wrote in 1952. “My Marriage to FATHER has brought the fulfillment of this desire and I can most assuredly say that in these past four or more happy years that I have been married, FATHER’S Virginity has been more firmly established in my consideration, for I have not seen anything about Him that reflects that of a man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “May I tape our conversation?” I asked Miss Faith. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “Oh no, you may not,” Miss Faith said, looking at me in disbelief. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; This was a perfectly natural question for a journalist, but Miss Faith’s reaction somehow made me feel thoroughly ashamed of myself. Was I now a besmirched house guest who had to be watched? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;I would later discover that in years past journalists delighted in taking advantage of Mother Divine’s generosity and then went on to butcher her in print. It’s the way journalism is these days, where stories about suburban teachers having sex with seventeen year olds is considered breaking news. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Without any sort of announcement, namely the ringing of chimes or a small hand bell, my eyes were drawn to the top of the magnificent central staircase. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">A woman in a long white beaded dress who was being escorted down the central staircase by an elderly woman in a beret. It was one of those cinematic moments, half Royal Family, half an exciting ‘new’ story that has yet to be told. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;“Who are these people?” I heard Mother Divine whisper to the aide. When she was reminded who we were, Mother approached Miles first, extending a hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">When Mother turned to me, I took her hand and said that it was an honor to meet her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;After all, this was the brave woman who, in 1972, issued the Rev. Jim Jones and his followers, his marching orders. Mother Divine ordered Jones to leave the Woodmont estate after he attempted to take over the Peace Mission Movement, claiming that he was the reincarnation of Father Divine.&nbsp; Some 200 of Jones’ followers had arrived from </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">California</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">, “pretending,” as Mother states, “a sincere desire to fellowship with members of the Movement.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Mother asked them to leave when “his distaste for the government of the </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">United States</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> and the establishment, and the prosperity of the followers in general began to be expressed in casual, then more deliberate remarks he made to Mother Divine and others.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Several years later would come the insanity of the People’s </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Temple</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> in </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Guyana</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In my quest to find out more about the </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Mission</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">, I asked Miss Faith “where the chapel was, the place where you have services.” My question was met with puzzlement. “The banquet is the holy communion service,” Miss Faith said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I would understand the mechanics of this very soon, once the banquet got underway. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The lush, white banquet table sat about 60 people. A swan on a “lake” of glass was the centerpiece, in addition to fresh flowers. Women outnumbered men about 10 to one. Mother sat at the head of the table; beside her was a setting for Father Divine. An attendant stood behind my chair and Miles’ ready to assist us during the meal.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Dinner began when Mother rang a large hand bell. A female cook in a white uniform produced the platters from a small kitchen directly behind Mother. Numerous platters of salad items, including a wide assortment of vegetables, condiments and sauces, set the pace for more complicated platters offering meats and fish, rice, potatoes, breads, more vegetables and meats until at last diners could devote their entire attention to the business at hand, eating, rather than the elaborate ritual of passing platters. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When platters are passed from one diner to another, they must never touch the table. Diners must also not hold two platters at the same time, so the entire synchronization of the plates had the movements of a dance. While this was going on, diners listened to an old audio tape of a Father Divine sermon. The mostly elderly crowd—men in suits and women in Peace Mission uniforms—beret, and a jacket embossed with a V—combined eating with the singing of hymns. A few elderly white women, European by birth, clapped their hands in sing song fashion in between mouthfuls. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The plate passing started up again when dessert was served: huge cakes, pies, jello molds and ice cream were passed in the same fashion, all homemade, all luscious, and yet not a single person at the table looked to be overweight. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">With synchronization worthy of the Rockettes, additional platters kept being delivered to both sides of the table. Diners were expected to take only what they could eat. I ate all of what I put on my plate except for a little bit of Salmon skin. The food was marvelous, the vegetables among the best I’ve ever tasted. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; After dinner, Miles and I were asked if we wanted to say a few words to the assembly. I mentioned that the dining experience reminded me of the time I spent in Catholic monasteries, when you would eat in silence while listening to a monk read from scripture or the lives of the saints. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">The Catholic connection, as it turned out, was not that far fetched. A woman from </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Saint Paul</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">’s parish in </span><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">South Philadelphia</span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">told me to look out for a lineup of Catholic saint statues around the parameter of the Peace Mission dining room. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">I counted ten or more Catholic saints positioned some ten feet above the heads of the diners.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; For me, the hymns and hand clapping that occurred during the banquet raised a red flag: “Here’s where biting journalist types like Christopher Hitchens have a really wicked time ripping into Mother and all things Divine,” I thought.&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But Woodmont, in rapidly deteriorating world, is actually more of a treasure than not. It’s quiet, isolated, beautiful, a mansion with many rooms and good food, an empire with its own benevolent queen, a masterful lady with a piercing glance.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; After dinner, Miles and I were told that Mother wanted to see us alone, in Father Divine’s office.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The office, as it turned out, is a dead ringer for the oval office in the White House. Miles and I stood with Mother by Father’s desk, an aide not far away.&nbsp; Directly in front of the window was Father Divine’s shrine and tomb. For a few moments things were very quiet, then sunlight hit Mother Divine’s face.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; We both agreed, on the train ride home, that here was the real </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> story.&nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-36418899897672533832017-02-18T18:58:00.002-05:002017-02-18T18:58:20.462-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>My Review of the film 'Jackie' for Philadelphia's Irish Edition</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp;<i><b>Look at photographs of the grassy knoll at </b></i></span><i><b><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">Dealey</span></st1:placename><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">Plaza</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"> in </span><st1:place><st1:city><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">Dallas</span></st1:city><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">, </span><st1:state><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">Texas</span></st1:state></st1:place></b></i><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">, where President John F. Kennedy’s motorcade sped away after an assassin’s bullets in 1963 changed the course of history, and you may find yourself imagining the pain the First Lady felt as she held her dying husband in her arms. &nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp; That horrific moment still lives in grainy newsreel footage, but it comes alive for us again in the form of Natalie Portman who plays Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy in Pablo Larrain’s <b><i>“Jackie</i></b>,” an intense psychological biopic about the life of the First Lady immediately after the assassination. Those dark days put the nation in mourning even as Jackie processed the shock alone, as the scene of Portman as Jackie scrubbing her face of her husband’s blood in the bathroom of Air Force One so chillingly details.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <b><i>“Jackie</i></b>” opens with the former First Lady being interviewed in the </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">Kennedy</span></st1:placename><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"> </span><st1:placename><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">Hyannis</span></st1:placename><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">Port</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"> compound by Theodore H. White for <i>Life</i> magazine. White is played by Billy Crudup who captures the writer’s suave and erudite manner. Eager to make a name for himself in journalism, his engagement with Jackie has all the elements of a verbal fencing match. Jackie isn’t going to let him have her story without a struggle. More therapist than journalist, Crudup’s White is patient to a fault but he’s not afraid to dig deep. He wants Jackie to spill her guts and relive what she saw and felt that day near the grassy knoll. &nbsp;Jackie acquiesces in small doses and gives White an occasional Big Feeling Moment, but then states, “Of course this is off the record.” Portman is so believable as the First Lady that we begin to realize that this is much more than a film but, as has been stated, “The scariest history lesson ever.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The nearly flawless script by Noah Oppenheim makes this 95-minute film seem much shorter. It also makes us not care so much that JFK (Caspar Phillipson) appears only a few times in quick juxtaposed flash backs.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <i><b>Portman’s Jackie opens a world heretofore unseen:</b></i> We are with her as she walks through the rooms of the White House like a numb, disembodied spirit. On her first night in </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">Washington</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"> after the assassination we see her taking off her blood stained clothes and breaking down in the shower. Then she puts on a chiffon night gown and in a radiant gesture, crawls into bed in a lounging position and lights a cigarette to life. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Alone with her children, who can’t understand where daddy is and why he won’t be coming home, Jackie’s sense of alienation grows. The viewer feels her growing displacement and the fact that the White House is now alien territory, a morgue of memories filled with mementos that she must wrap up and put into boxes for her new home in </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">New York City</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">. If there is one flaw in the film it is the odd choice of actors portraying Caroline (Sunnie Pelant) and young John John (Brody and Aiden Weinberg). Their odd physical features are far removed from the standard Kennedy and Bouvier good looks.&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;<b><i>A decidedly unhappy moment in the film occurs when Jackie’s walks in on Lyndon Johnson and Lady Byrd as they pick out new White House wall paper;</i></b> in an instant we see what the widow sees: her famous remodeling of the White House going up in smoke. But all is not perfect ladylike composure, especially when she loses her temper with brother-in-law Bobby (Peter Sarsgaard) and with the Secret Service over arrangements for the presidential funeral. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Priests are rarely portrayed well in </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">Hollywood</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">, but John Hurt as Father Richard McSorley displays the seasoned wisdom of a long suffering philosopher. When he walks with Jackie in a tree lined </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">Washington</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"> park on cold gray winter afternoons, he does his best to answer her questions concerning the mystery and (possible) futility of life. &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Happily, Jackie feels little futility when she decides to promote the legacy of Camelot after replaying the music that she and Jack had so enjoyed in happier days. &nbsp;If she cannot have her husband back, she can at least extract ‘revenge’ in the form of an historic legacy that will live well into the ages. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp; &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-30336524804014880512017-02-18T18:49:00.003-05:002017-02-18T18:49:19.687-05:00The New Civil War<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">THE LOCAL </span></b><st1:stockticker><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">LENS</span></b></st1:stockticker><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">THOM NICKELS&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; AMERICA'S NEW CIVIL WAR<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <b>Some people say that the political polarization in the country is worse now than it’s been since the American Civil War. It has even been predicted that the country is on the verge of another civil war. That seems a bit of a stretch although it is true that during the Vietnam War many protesters believed that the antiwar movement was the second American Revolution. </b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But what if the current unrest in the country does lead to a second American Civil War? How would that play out in the modern era? Granted, there wouldn’t be battles like those that were fought in </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Gettysburg</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> or </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Vicksburg</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">, but it’s very conceivable that each side would come up with their own flag design. Signs and symbols, after all, are important. The President’s people might construct an orange flag, which would stand in stark contrast to the flag of the Resistance: a pair of big furry pussy ears fixed to a raised fist. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; The first shot of the new civil war will not be fired at </span><st1:place><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Fort</span></st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> </span><st1:placename><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Sumter</span></st1:placename></st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> but will ring out during one of the many demonstrations being held throughout the nation. Lulled into a false sense of security by the relative liberality and “ease” of the Obama years, the Resistance will have little sense of limits when it comes to protesting President Trump and the GOP, which they will happily refer to as <i>Grab Our Pussies.</i> The false sense of security that former President Obama’s policies would last forever will mislead those in the Resistance to believe that a slap on the wrist or squirts of pepper spray will be the highest price to pay for blocking highways and traffic at rush hour. They will have forgotten about history, namely the </span><st1:date day="4" month="5" year="1970"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">May 4, 1970</span></st1:date><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> killing of </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Kent</span></st1:placename><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> </span><st1:placename><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">State</span></st1:placename></st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> antiwar student protesters by the National Guard. The Resistance will be taken by surprise when after months of engaging in property destruction, government building invasions and street mayhem, President Trump declares Marshal Law. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<b>The Resistance’s worst fears will materialize but only because they worked to push the protest limits into the stratosphere. One might compare this ‘<i>every action has a reaction’</i> mindset to the closing of Cione Field to the general public because of the irresponsible habits of a few dog walkers who don’t clean up after their animals poop. The Resistance will have created a self-fulfilling prophecy.&nbsp; Like Mary Shelley who created the novel <i>Frankenstein</i>, they will have created Dictator President Trump. &nbsp;The Resistance will pretend to be scandalized at the turn of events but down deep they will be happy because life for them has no purpose if one cannot ...resist. &nbsp;&nbsp;</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 9.0pt; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Driven underground, the Resistance will form collective huddles in basements and community centers. Formerly benign groups like Nuns on the Bus will be renamed Nuns with Guns and the streets of the city will become like an armed camp. &nbsp;At night, armies of pussy eared fem soldiers and their Lone Ranger masked boyfriends will scurry from one back alley to another in defiance of the new curfew laws. The Marshals will catch many of the curfew breakers, remove their knitted hats and then put the ears on the top of stakes that will line major thoroughfares.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 9.0pt; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 9.0pt; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 9.0pt; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;<b>&nbsp;Citizens not involved in the new civil war will stay put in their houses after sundown, where they will load up on popcorn and NetFliks. These people will be called ‘The Middles’ because they admire some things about President Trump although they cannot buy his entire agenda. The Middles will support some Resistance ideas although they will continue to have issues with abortion or dressing up their two year old daughters as “walking vaginas” who scream “fuck you” at supporters of the President. The Middles will call for peace and compromise but the nation will have become so polarized that The Middles will be seen as even greater enemies than the enemy that each side is supposed to hate. &nbsp;</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 9.0pt; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 9.0pt; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Violent skirmishes in the streets of the city will be common, such as gunshots, home made explosions, screams and the sounds of large groups as they charge into buildings or attack limos in the vicinity of the Union League. These will be intensely dark times for the nation, and especially for </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">, which will see brother against brother, mother against son, and neighbor against neighbor. The agreed upon boundaries of civil tolerance will disappear. There will be no discussion, no dialogue. Speakers with an “incorrect” point of view will be dragged from podiums, hog tied and gagged. It will make the humble beginnings of political discord and intolerance on Facebook, when friend “unfriended” friend, seem like innocent child’s play.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 9.0pt; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; <b>&nbsp;</b></span><b><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Philadelphia</span></st1:placename><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">City Hall</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">, because of its prime reputation as a major Resistance city, will become a nerve center in the new civil war, even under Marshal Law. &nbsp;Mayor Kenney will lead the charge, continuing to defy a federal ban on Sanctuary cities to the bitter end, even as the stoppage of federal funds from </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Washington</span></st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> hurls the city into dire poverty and forces many public schools to close. The mayor will ask citizens to accept the suffering as a sacrifice for the noble ideals of The Resistance. Many will come to see him as the American male version of Joan of Arc and join in chants like, “<i>death is better than capitulation</i>.” Indeed for some it will be death because many will even not be able to afford a block of Velveeta cheese. The end of federal funding will spiral outward and affect all areas of city life. Outdoor restaurants and cafes will close sidewalk service and theaters will close or choose not to offer frivolous plays about millennials in love or esoteric love stories that have ties to quantum physics. Every play will have a Resistance theme. &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; Civil War, after all, is serious business! </b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Ideological frenzy will be the order of the day. The Resistance will demand the resignation of President Trump and demand that “reality” return to the way it was under President Obama.&nbsp; The Orange Brigade, on the other hand, will be just as immovable, having long ago repealed Obamacare without replacing it with anything except a promise to come up with something better “very soon.” But even President Trump, with all of his mighty Executive Orders, will not be able to slay three giants, the American Medical Association, Big Pharm and the insurance industry when it comes to implementing a sensible health care program for all Americans. &nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Without national health insurance and with the new Congress’ dismantling of many programs for the poor, like Medicaid, long standing institutions like Health Care Six on </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Girard Avenue</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"> will close its doors. The poor will now have no medical care even in hospital emergency rooms where it was once possible to apply as a charity case patient. Those who cannot pay for hospital treatment upfront on a credit card, check or cash will be sent back into the streets or to their homes to die. &nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; The lovely, free Obama phone will disappear from view. Methadone clinics will disappear or be taken over by for profit companies that will demand hours of work in exchange for counseling and treatment. Social Security will not be affected for those already retired but the scale of future benefits will be radically marked down for millennials so that by the time they retire the benefits will be down to almost nothing.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Conversely, there will be plenty of jobs. Factories will make reappearance so that if a new hire doesn’t like one job they can quit and literally walk down the street to another factory and be hired on the spot.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;</span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><b>America</b></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><b> will be a mixed bag of opportunities and devastation. &nbsp;</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; The new Civil War will be long and protracted. It will mostly be a war of banishment and shunning more than a violent conventional war. In the end, it will be The Middles who will work to negotiate a peace treaty. They will find a way to get both sides to sit down and talk and come up with a comprehensive <i>Middle Way to Restore the Nation</i>.&nbsp; Ideological fanatics on both extremes will fight this but in the end they will lose. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The nation, exhausted by strife and unrest, will finally realize that the extreme ideologues on the Right and the Left have to go. &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 27.0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-65330663351097202342017-02-18T18:41:00.002-05:002017-02-18T18:41:58.473-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><b><i>THE LOCAL </i></b><st1:stockticker><b><i>LENS</i></b></st1:stockticker><b><i><o:p></o:p></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><i>THOM NICKELS &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; FAREWELL, FIORELLA NICKELS<o:p></o:p></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp;The death of a loved one or family member is for most people a traumatic experience.&nbsp; &nbsp;That’s because most of us assume that our lives will go on for a long time and that death won’t happen today or even the day after tomorrow but sometime in the distant future. </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; Death is never a pleasant topic. There are no “nice” deaths, either. One can die instantly of a heart attack, stroke or in an automobile accident, or one can die slowly over a period of months or years. In the case of the latter, at least there’s a chance for the one who is about to die to say good-bye. In the case of the former, there are no such options. In the Orthodox Church there are prayers asking God to save us from an instant death. It is always better to be prepared for this important transition from life to after life. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; My sister in law recently reposed. We were not extremely close but we still had a closeness made palpable by decades of family dinners and reunions. When I say we were not extremely close I don’t mean to imply a distance caused by alienation. Like most people, we were caught up in our own lives which led us to assume that there would be plenty of time to see one another again.</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Fioerlla came into my brother’s life at a point when he really needed change and a life partner. One day my mother called me up and said, “You’ll be meeting Fiorella this Sunday. I think your brother has met his match.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; Fiorella had long straight hair, a winning smile, a keen intelligence and an acute sense of humor. Her Italian family roots could be traced to the area by the <st1:place>Adriatic Sea</st1:place>. She was born in <st1:country-region>Italy</st1:country-region>but migrated to the <st1:country-region>United States</st1:country-region>as a toddler with her parents. She married my brother in Saint Patrick’s church in Malvern, an old gothic structure with enormous glass stained windows. I attended the wedding. It was the 1970s and all the men in the wedding party had long hair and mustaches. The reception was a rollicking party along the lines of <i>Saturday Night Fever.<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Fiorella’s mother was a gifted seer who provided her daughter with advice and counseling. Her father had a talent for winemaking; his wine was famous for its smooth medicinal properties and it rarely if ever caused a morning hangover. We all asked one another, “how does he make this stuff?’ </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;My brother often spoke of his mother-in-law’s intuitive talents. Like the mystic and saint, Padre Pio, it was claimed that Fiorella’s mother could be in two places at once. This is called bi-location. My brother once told me that his father-in-law would often see his wife in the garden and then half a second later at the kitchen stove. It was just one of life’s unexplained mysteries. Still, Fiorella’s mom’s excellent “intuitions” were sometimes not what her daughter or my brother wanted to hear.</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;I remember the time when she warned them to travel by plane rather than take the train when planning a cross country trip. The advice seemed backwards because conventional wisdom suggests that flying would be more dangerous than traveling by Amtrak. Fiorella was afraid of flying and she tried to avoid it whenever possible, so it took all her strength to muster up the courage to fly with my brother when they embarked on their honeymoon to <st1:city>Acapulco</st1:city>.</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp;But Fiorella’s mother was persistent: “Do not take the train! Take the plane!”</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Fiorella’s fear of flying was just too great, so she and my brother decided to take the train, despite the warning. Once on board Amtrak in the train’s sleeping compartment, there was a crash and a sort of explosion that sent the two of them flying off their bunks. Smoke entered their compartment and a lot of panic ensued. Fortunately they escaped without injury: the train had derailed or had crashed into something, I’m not sure which, but those uncertain moments were very scary for them. &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Fiorella and my brother settled in a house in a development in <st1:place><st1:city>Exton</st1:city>, <st1:state>Pennsylvania</st1:state></st1:place>&nbsp;&nbsp; where they raised three children. The years advanced and as often happens with families there were times when we Nickels siblings would drift apart only to come together during the holidays or a 4<sup>th</sup>of July picnic. On one 4<sup>th</sup> of July Fiorella and my brother hosted a massive reunion for my mother’s side of the family. The ‘Muldoon-Kelly’ reunion covered the waterfront in terms of disparate personalities and incomes. Fiorella and my brother had also managed to obtain old photos of distant relatives in Tyrone County, Ireland, men with long black beards covering their chest and women carrying parasols. &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; Fiorella contracted breast cancer a few years ago. She had a single mastectomy and routine chemo and radiation treatments. After that she and my brother went on an extreme health regime. Life was fine for a while but then two or three days after Christmas it was discovered that the cancer had returned, only now it was in her liver. </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In no time at all it seemed the cancer got worse and spread to other parts of Fiorella’s body. She was admitted to <st1:place><st1:placename>Bryn</st1:placename> <st1:placename>Mawr</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place>. When the truth of her incurable cancer became an undisputable fact, her youngest daughter, Amanda came up with a plan.</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Scheduled to be married to her fiancé Mark in September 2017, the couple organized a wedding in the hospital chapel before their big September church wedding. All of my brother’s children pitched in to create what became a miniature but full extravanza in just 24 hours. That included getting the wedding rings, hiring musicians, a priest, ordering food and champagne and negotiating with a tailor to alter Fiorella’s old wedding gown for Amanda to wear.</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; Fiorella was informed of the impromptu chapel wedding and was given an extra treatment of radiation so she could attend. The morning of the wedding she woke up and said, “I feel great!” </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; The small ceremony turned the hospital upside down when nurses and physicians, and even the hospital’s president and CEO, crowded into the small chapel, many of them in tear.</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;My last visit with Fiorella was Tuesday January 31 when I entered her hospital room around <st1:time hour="17" minute="20">5:20 PM</st1:time>. She was alone and she looked to be sleeping. The room was empty except for the sounds of a nurse running water in the bathroom. When the nurse asked me who I was, I told her that I was a brother in law. In the few seconds that it took me to say this I thought I saw a smile cross Fiorella's face. Was I imaging this? My brother had told me earlier that his wife was comatose but that she could hear what was being said. The nurse said I could spend as much time with her as I wanted, and so I sat with Fiorella until the chaplain walked in and told me that Fiorella had actually died hours before, at <st1:time hour="15" minute="20">3:20</st1:time>.</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Hearing this was disconcerting because all along I had thought that she was asleep. I spent 30 minutes sitting with Fiorella, meditating, thinking of times past. </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; Then I thought of the words of St. John Chryosotom who wrote that although death is terrible and frightening—yes, even its name is devastating-- that for those who know the higher philosophy there should be no shuddering,</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;That’s because death is merely a passing over when we leave this corruptible life and go on to another, which is unending and incomparably better.&nbsp; </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><br /><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-64382211318509005382017-02-18T18:34:00.001-05:002017-02-18T18:34:56.797-05:00Three Political Philadelphia Stories<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><b>THE LOCAL </b><st1:stockticker><b>LENS</b></st1:stockticker><b><o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>THOM NICKELS <o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp;<b>There have been a number of quirky, unsettling city news items lately that make me wonder what else might be in store in 2017. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; One issue that got everybody stirred up was Councilwoman Jannie Blackwell’s introduction of a City Council bill that would have made it mandatory for city residents to get a letter of support from their local or district Councilperson before putting flowers or potted plants on the sidewalk in front of their own homes. Talk about <i>House and Garden</i> floral Marxism. This news struck me as so strange that for a minute I wondered what Ms. Blackwell had been smoking. I even thought of Pedro Almodovar’s 1988 Spanish black comedy-drama film, <i>Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown</i>, and wondered if perhaps something like a breakdown had happened to the venerable Councilwoman. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Also included in Blackwell’s bill was a clause stating that businesses, especially restaurants, had to ask permission before expanding their bevy of café tables and planters on city sidewalks. This section of the bill didn’t seem so unreasonable since navigating <st1:place><st1:placetype>Center</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype>City</st1:placetype></st1:place>sidewalks in warm weather can often be a precarious experience, with pedestrians bumping into restaurant wait staff or tripping over café table legs. It was Blackwell’s focus on residential flower pots, however, that got so many city row house dwellers up in arms. Much like Mayor Kenney’s soda tax, the proposed flower pot rule seemed to stretch into <i>Twilight Zone</i> absurdity, or ust another notch on a big tree called The Nanny State. &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The situation got me thinking about the mood swings a City Councilperson must experience when the thrill of the job begins to wane. &nbsp;When someone is first elected to City Council it must be a terrific feeling to know that you are about to become an integral part of City Hall. Imagine the rush new Council members must experience when they realize that they are going to represent constituents and be taken so seriously that every word they utter will probably be quoted in the local press. Add to this the excitement of photo ops, assorted professional and personal perks and guest-of-honor speaking engagements at swank luncheons and dinners, and you have a pretty nice life. &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;Over time, of course, all those City Council perks and privileges would probably become routine. After so many years they may even become mundane. Drifting in placid seas is even boring for sailors, so it’s not surprising that every now and then a City Councilperson will come up with an outrageous suggestion just to show the public and the press that they have not fallen asleep on the job. &nbsp;Jannie Blackwell’s chose flower pots to get city residents to notice her again but her bill &nbsp;&nbsp;was shot down like an ill designed drone wobbling in the air over Bridesburg. &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;When Blackwell withdrew her bill she artfully segued out of some embarrassment by stating that her original intention was to put a hold on the proliferation of bike racks that have been swallowing up city sidewalks. The bill was not killed but <i>put on hold</i>, meaning that at a future date it could rear its head again.</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In other city news, it was reported that the city’s Director of LGBT Affairs, Helen “Nellie” Fitzpatrick, would resign her office sometime in the coming months. &nbsp;While I’ve never met Ms. Fitzpatrick, she seemed like a thoroughly earnest person intent on doing the best job possible but in the end pleasing all of the people all of the time just isn’t humanly possible. Fitzpatrick has been around since 2014 when she was appointed to the post by then Mayor Michael Nutter. Given the strict progressive political tenor of this town, Fitzpatrick seemed to be a sensible choice. Her progressive credentials were so stellar it was a shock when she came under fire from those in her own political camp. And it all had to do with a bar called ICandy. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;ICandy, a gay bar in <st1:place><st1:placetype>Center</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype>City</st1:placetype></st1:place>, has never had a good reputation. It is a bar that caters to a very young party hearty crowd. It’s the sort of bar where over 40 patrons are ignored as if they are wearing a cologne called <i>Invisible.</i>ICandy used to be called Equus in the 1980s and at that time it was considered to be one of the city’s major musical hot spots.&nbsp; Maureen McGovern of <i>Superman </i>fame appeared there for several nights in a row. Decades before that, sometime in the 1910s or earlier, it housed an illegal, news making abortion clinic. One can almost say that the ground on which ICandy stands is both blessed and cursed.&nbsp; </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The story goes that ICandy’s owner was secretly taped using the N-word during a private&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">conversation. There were also allegations that the bar was turning away people dressed in sweats and dirty Timberland boots, claiming that these items violated the dress code. The unfortunate N-word tape was actually three years old when it resurfaced and recycled into the public arena. The bar owner issued a public apology&nbsp; but some activists claimed the apology was insincere and called for boycotts and on-site demonstrations demanding ICandy’s closure. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;<i> Apparently, forgiveness does not come easily in the world of political activism. The bar owner might as well have raised his middle finger and said that he stands by the word he used on the tape. How is it that even in the worst fundamentalist religions one can be forgiven and even promised “a life after sin.” Why is kind of mercy nonexistent in the activist realm? </i></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; When mob mentality triumphs, there comes a need for a sacrificial lamb or scapegoat, so activists blamed Nellie Fitzpatrick for not doing enough to stem the shadow of “racism” in the Gayborhood. &nbsp;Mayor Kenney, to his credit, jumped into the fray and defended Fitzpatrick, saying, “the attacks against her are misplaced.”&nbsp; </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; In yet another news item, we saw newly inducted Philadelphia Councilwoman-at-Large Helen Gym take to the streets and join a die-in protesting President Trump’s immigration and refugee policies when Republican lawmakers spent the day in <st1:city>Philadelphia</st1:city>. </div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; Now, I have to hand it to Gym, she has extreme national aspirations and she’s a PR genius. I’d even say that she’s aiming for the cover of Newsweek or Time and that she’ll stop at nothing to make sure that the ‘gymnastics’ implied in her last name catapults her into being Philadelphia’s first female mayor. (When she becomes mayor, Jannie Blackwell’s flower pot bill will resurface). </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Helen Gym’s first political protest photo op occurred when she attacked the Wheely Wheely Good University City food truck as being racist because ‘wheel wheely’ sounds like what a thick accented Chinese immigrant might sound like when they use the word ‘really.’ The Chinese co-owner of the truck was taken aback at Gym’s charge, and told Philadelphia Magazine that, <span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 11.5pt;">“She approached our truck while we were working and started to argue with my partner and me.&nbsp; She told us, ‘Your truck’s name is super-racist.’ She used those words.”</span><o:p></o:p></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 7.5pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Gym also criticized the Asian caricatures on the truck and the typeface used in the design. In 2016, Gym was adamant about instituting a parking tax to help pay for the schools. <span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 10.5pt;">"Parking lots don't move, they're ugly, and we should tax them more," she said. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 7.5pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 10.5pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; That’s right, let’s tax the immovable and the ugly. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 7.5pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 10.5pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 7.5pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </div><br /><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;</div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-79694076846931652522017-01-28T19:37:00.003-05:002017-01-28T19:37:56.070-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><b>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;ICON Magazine Theater January 2017<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Found.</b> This <st1:stockticker>PTC</st1:stockticker>millennial song fest celebrates the story of Davy ( F. Michael Haynie) and his magazine of the same name that publishes random notes found in the city. With his roommates Mikey D (Juwan Crawley) and Denise (Alysha Desloreieux), Davy’s gimmicky, substance-starved magazine soon lands him an interview on NPR. Success is assured when a beautiful <st1:place>Hollywood</st1:place> female producer, Becka (Erika Henningsen) offers to transform <b>Found</b> into a TV show. Davy flies to LA, leaving Mikey D. and wannabe girlfriend Denise in the dust although his dreams of major celebrity crash when the <st1:place>Hollywood</st1:place> project fails and the affair with Becka ends. Davy then resurrects the magazine after a profound apology to Denise, whereupon everyone begins dancing and breaking out the Pabst. <b>Found</b> is based on the real life experiences of Davy Rothbart and his magazine of the same name and theme with music and lyrics by Eli Bolin. The music is charming although a few of the numbers don’t connect to the story at all. Part <i>After School Special,</i> main stage Walnut Street Theater, and SNL skit, the enthusiasm of the cast is contagious and <st1:place>Crawley</st1:place>’s falsetto is arresting, even if many in the cast look like they could use six months at Planet Fitness.&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; <b>Black Nativity</b>. New Freedom Theatre kicked off its 50<sup>th</sup>anniversary with this colorful, drum enhanced production. The traditional epic of Mary (Leedea Harrison) and Joseph (Jordan Dobson) and the manger in <st1:city>Bethlehem</st1:city>included classic Christmas songs mixed with African drumming and dancing. The dazzling effect and brilliant costumes electrified an old story. Under the direction of Freedom’s new artistic director, Rajendra Ramon Maharaj, <b>Black Nativity</b> also blended the story of another Mary (Lauren Morgan) and Joseph (James Pitts, Jr.) from Africa’s war torn (and atrocity ridden) Darfur area. While Mary and Joseph #1 escape Herod’s hunt for Jewish first born sons, <st1:place>Darfur</st1:place>’s (pregnant) Mary contemplates suicide after presuming Joseph has been killed. “There is no God in <st1:place>Darfur</st1:place>!” she laments, as soldiers rape and murder local villagers.&nbsp; The parallel stories merge gracefully when Darfur Mary looks into the eyes of the <st1:city>Bethlehem</st1:city>babe, after which Joseph returns and Mary gives birth to a son. While the melding of the two stories has some clumsy moments, by the end of the musical the juxtaposition is at perfect pitch.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>&nbsp;Last of the Red Hot Lovers. </b>&nbsp;The Walnut Street Theater takes us back to 1969 with Neil Simon’s seminal hit about a 47 year old married Manhattan fish restaurateur who wants his share of the Sixties sexual revolution despite the fact that he has to use his mother’s studio apartment for his assignations. Can this Mamma’s boy get any satisfaction? &nbsp;(January 10-February 5). </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Constellations. &nbsp;</b>It’s boy meets girl again at The Wilma as Director Tea Alagic brings us the convoluted love story of physicist Marianne and beekeeper Roland whose relationship falls into the vagaries of quantum physics or a universe filled with more questions than answers and too many ‘maybes.’ This 3 hour, 15 minute drama has two 10 minute intermissions, so buckle down. Jake Gyllenhaal of <st1:place><st1:placename><i>Brokeback</i></st1:placename><i> </i><st1:placetype><i>Mountain</i></st1:placetype></st1:place>fame and Ruth Wilson played the <b>Constellation</b>lovers to great acclaim on the off-Broadway stage. If you can get over an aversion to physics, bee stings, and millennial angst, then Constellations might be a good antidote to winter. (January 11-February 5)&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>John. </b>&nbsp;The season of the long plays continues with the Arden Theatre Company’s 3 and a half hour story of Brooklynites, Elias and Jenny, a feuding married couple (Jenny once had an affair) who visit a Gettysburg B&amp;B and get talking with a blind woman who has &nbsp;other worldly perceptions. <b><i>Slate </i></b>describes <b>Joh</b>n as an “examination of the murkiness of human relationships.”&nbsp; When the play first ran at <st1:state>New York</st1:state>’s Barrow Street Theatre, large numbers of subscribers walked out because of the protracted silences onstage. <b>John </b>has since been reconfigured.&nbsp; &nbsp;<b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-51090150111465094472017-01-28T19:33:00.004-05:002017-01-28T19:33:47.372-05:00Cafe Dunkin Donuts & a Trip to McFonald's<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>While in the neighborhood of 12th and Locust Streets recently</b>, I came across an old building that used to be one of the city’s quirkiest restaurants. It also sold the worst coffee I had ever had in my life. Imagine coffee that sits burning up in pot all day long, so stale and strong that it stays with you all day long.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>The coffee problem, I think, can be explained because the restaurant’s name was Polly’s Spinning Wheel Restaurant, or Polly’s Tea Room. The luncheonette had a large-scale tea kettle over its exterior window — in old photographs of 12th and 13th and Locust Streets you can see Polly’s gigantic tea kettle looming over the sidewalk.&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>I’m not sure when Polly’s opened for business, but it could have been in the 1950s.&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>The place was a Philadelphia institution on the order of Pat’s Steaks or Geno’s.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Polly’s unusual attraction was that all customers got their tea leaves or Tarot cards read after they completed their meal. There were three or four readers in the eatery at any given time and customers waited up to an hour to get a reading.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>I first went to Polly’s with a friend of mine, Sherry. She was obsessed with a talented reader there who seemed to give her accurate answers concerning her love life. Before I went to Polly’s myself, I had always assumed that the customers there were slightly cracked. They certainly were not foodies.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>The food at Polly’s was far from great, but it was adequate. We often ordered a chicken entrée and coffee. The rubbery chicken made me think of a bad Three Stooges movie; the meatloaf was bricklike and the mashed potatoes were hard and cold like a soupy salt marsh in Cape May. When you ordered a pie, the crust was usually stale or hard.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>The clientele was interesting. The majority of the customers were odd-looking women in small “church” hats. Younger, professional women began to frequent the place when the Philadelphia Inquirer did a feature on Polly’s. Male customers were far less numerous, but when men came they came in groups of two or three, probably for emotional support.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Polly’s wait staff was made up of older women who had once worked at Horn and Hardart’s on Broad Street. Some of these ladies wore hair nets and called you “hon.” All you heard there was the ching-a-ling sound of the doorbell whenever anyone entered or left. I felt as if I had walked through time into Dickens’ London every time I sat down at Polly’s.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>The bad coffee at Polly’s got me thinking about the coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts (or Café Dunkin’) on Aramingo Avenue. Café Dunkin’, as all locals know, is a funky place. While it might not be the best café in the world, it will do when you want something close to home. It’s cheap, it’s real and it is about as unpretentious as you can get.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span><b>Compared to the café I visit when I am in Center City, Square One Coffee</b>, Café Dunkin’ is not a café at all. Square One Coffee is a specialty coffeeshop near 13th and Spruce Streets. People park themselves there for hours. Square One is not representative of the general population because it attracts students with laptops, so most of the time it feels like an extension of a college cafeteria. Adults who are not students rarely go there because having 30 laptops in your face can be blinding. You’ll never spot a homeless person in Square One. Ditto for screaming kids or Comcast workers dressed in overalls. One good thing about Square One, though, is that the second cup of coffee is free.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Specialty coffee is all the rage, but these fancier roasts sometimes have an awful taste. Overworking the coffee bean all too often destroys the simple deliciousness one can find in a Wawa or McDonald’s coffee. McDonald’s coffee, in my opinion, always comes out on top when compared to the more expensive blends.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>On rare occasions I head to the McDonald’s near Front and Girard, probably the least attractive McDonald’s in the city, where I order the fish fillet and fries meal. McDonald’s is certainly better than the after-hours pandemonium one encounters in the 7/11 across the street, but junk food is junk food.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span><b>My last visit to McDonald’s </b>was a couple of weeks ago while waiting for the 15 shuttle bus. I was seated not far from a man who was seated behind a woman and her small son. The woman’s son had very thick eyeglasses, which gave him a Dr. Peabody look. It was apparent to me that most of the McDonald’s staff knew the kid because they all took turns hugging him. While eating my sandwich, I heard the man tell the woman how beautiful she was. He kept repeating the compliment, but was then quick to tell the woman that he wasn’t trying to pick her up. Instead, he explained that his compliment was for the “greater good” and that “the universe” was telling him to tell her that she was beautiful.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>The man piled on more compliments and then he honed in on Dr. Peabody, who was happily munching on fries.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>“Hey, you have cornrow hair,” the man announced. “Cornrow, wow! Don’t get me wrong. That’s not bad. Look at me, I can’t do cornrows in my hair — look at it… but you can and that’s beautiful.”</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>The zany exchange reminded me somewhat of a recent Café Dunkin experience with Steve Janas, a filmmaker with the Discovery Channel, who has also worked with actor James Franco’s Rabbit Bandini Productions. Janas was there with his camera cohort Joshua Staub and the three of us were happily munching when a pleasant homeless guy who frequents the area walked up to our table.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>I’ll call the homeless guy Jethro, only because he likes to wear a Peruvian-style knit hat with knitted braids that sort of curl down on his shoulders. Jethro actually resembled a neighborhood millennial, not someone who’s always walking back and forth into the deeper pockets of Kensington.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>I’ve given Jethro money in the past, but today was not his day. Apparently he had done something to win the disfavor of management, because no sooner had he said hello to us than he was told to get out. What he did days or months ago to warrant getting kicked out is anybody’s guess, but rules are rules. Meeting Jethro, you’d never know that he was capable of anything bad except laying on a lot of charm for handouts.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>After Jethro’s exit — he survived walking across dangerous Aramingo Avenue — I thought of all the other cafes that I have yet to visit. One of them is The River Wards Café on Richmond Street. I met the chief designer of this café on the 15 shuttle months before the café opened and was promised an invite to the opening, but that never happened.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>For me, a café has to be accessible, and that’s why Café Dunkin’, with all its glaring imperfections, usually does the job. It also happens to be the place where I can connect with neighbors who would never go to a Square One Coffee or the River Wards Café — neighbors like Maria, who is fond of corn muffins and Café Dunkin’s tuna fish croissant.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Maria likes to tell me how the tuna fish has a tranquilizing component to it because after eating it, all she wants to do is sit there and meditate. Friends tell me to be careful about eating tuna because of its high mercury content, but when you love tuna, what can you do?</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Maria also has some weird theories about Café Dunkin’s donuts and muffins. For instance, she likes to say how sprinkle donuts have been known to cause hallucinations. Perhaps we better not go here because I don’t want to give weight to the theory that Café Dunkin’ managers are part of the Illuminati who participate in strange nighttime ceremonies when the place is bereft of customers.<span class="s1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<b style="box-sizing: border-box;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">•</i></b></span></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-80874074390183057942017-01-28T19:31:00.001-05:002017-01-28T19:31:02.652-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;</span><st1:city><st1:place><b><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">PHILADELPHIA</span></b></st1:place></st1:city><b><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">: THE COMING </span></b><st1:stockticker><b><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">FOOD</span></b></st1:stockticker><b><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">CRACKDOWN<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><b><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; THOM NICKELS<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <b>Now that </b></span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;"><b>Philadelphia</b></span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;"><b>’s sugary drink tax is underway</b>, and city residents are experiencing various levels of shock and dismay at the dig into their pocketbooks, City Hall may be planning a second assault, so get ready!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Why stop at soda, after all? The truth is that in time the benefits from the soda tax will do little or nothing to help fund the city’s preK (expensive daycare) program. That’s because the tax money from all those Coke, Pepsi and fruit juice sales (some markets have included hot sauces in the sugary drink tax) are being funneled to other sources like the city’s fund balance. This time next year, with sugary drink consumption way down in the city because of the extra cost, His Honor and City Council will be looking at other possible tax sources. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; <b><i>Don’t be surprised if the mayor announces that super sweet cereals should be taxed, along with processed meats, frozen French fries and microwave popcorn. Microwave popcorn, after all, contains diacetyl, perfluorooctanoic acid and plenty of trans fats, a far more unhealthy food than your average sugary drink. </i></b>The mayor will explain that these new taxes will go towards an expanded preK program that will include first and second grader “lifestyle costs.” <i>The PostK Lifestyle Enhancement Program</i> (PLEP) will ensure that elementary school children are able to afford arts and cultural activities on the weekends, and even bus trips to </span><st1:place><st1:placename><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">Longwood</span></st1:placename><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span><st1:placetype><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">Gardens</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">.&nbsp; Once PLEP is underway, Councilwoman Helen Gym will call for an upgrade, <i>The Middle School to Adulthood Program (</i>MSAP) which will help fund extra learning college preparatory courses and weekend educational seminars for students who are not gifted but who would like to be gifted. An additional special tax will then be levied on fast food chicken nuggets, which of course is another unhealthy food which has more than its fair share of synthetic ingredients, including Red #40, diglycarides and carrageenan. Ms. Gym, in her enthusiasm for MSAP will soon find it advisable to go way beyond taxing chicken nuggets, since that food is not universally loved. What is (almost) universally loved is candy, chocolate as well as jams and jellies containing high fructose corn syrup.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The additional new tax imposed on these products would ensure that almost every jam in the supermarket would go way up in price except for a very small selection of highly expensive organic jams, normally two or three times the price as fructose-ridden jams. The net tax gain from the Gym-sponsored MSAP would go a long way to fund labor intensive “<i>I’m going to make you a genius</i>” (the slogan of MSAP’s city wide campaign) workshops throughout the Philadelphia school district.&nbsp; Within a short amount of time the Philly School system would see rapid improvement in the grades of average students who wish to be gifted, and Ms. Gym will be awarded a ribbon in City Hall.&nbsp; Yet at the end of the day even this tax will not be enough. A movement will surface that will raise the question: What about those mechanically inclined students who don’t wish to go to college but who cannot find a trade school to polish their technical skills? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Tech School Star Launch (TSSL) will be proposed by Mayor Kenney at the beginning of his second term. TSSL will help mechanically inclined students to make the most out of their talents and it will also fund a city-wide public relations campaign to help eliminate the charges of some that technical school isn’t as good as a college education. Because TSSL would need substantial funding, Mayor Kenney, with the assistance of Mark Squilla and Ms. Gym, will work on another food tax levy. The focus this time will be processed meats, which can cause hypertension, colon cancer and diabetes, three big No-No’s no matter how you slice it. A hefty tax on processed meats will easily sail through by City Council, but the bill will not include expensive organic meats, like Boar’s Head products. When this tax, called <i>The Big Meat Levy</i> (BML) is proposed there will be a huge uproar from Mom and Pop food stores and mainstream, grocery chains. The outcry will be much like the initial protest (years ago) when the sugary drink tax was first imposed. Like then as now, the protest won’t mean a thing, City Hall will get what it wants and in the end most processed meat (a variety of cheeses will be added at midnight on the day before the singing of the bill) will be taxed. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<b> In time, observers will begin</b> to see diminishing lines in city supermarkets but there will also be increased auto traffic from Philly into New Jersey, Delaware and other neighboring states that don’t have a Mayor Kenney or a Helen Gym in office. Optimists will try to placate depressed consumers by pointing to all the foods still left on the shelves that are not taxed, like Broccoli, Asparagus, Brussels Sprouts,&nbsp; Lentils, Lima Beans, Beets, Succotash, Eggplant and liver. Perhaps the biggest controversy will occur when City Hall decides that even with all these new taxes, the money netted from this bounty disappears too quickly&nbsp; We still need money, the politicians will say, only this time we need it for the sanitation department and to help keep city pensions afloat. A tax on frozen chicken pot pies and frozen entrees, with their high amounts of sodium, trans fats, steroids, hormones and cholesterol, will be imposed as a final measure, with the mayor promising that this will be the last tax, “so help me God.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; By this time, however, most Philadelphians will be in the habit of leaving the city to shop. City Line Avenue in Bala Cynwyd will be thick with clogged traffic as families drive back and forth into Montgomery County to hit the big shopping malls. Philly grocery stores will see profits slip as the lines in city markets become thinner and thinner. Many will also opt to leave the city altogether. Mayor Kenney, at the end of his second term, will balk at the mass exodus and try to impose an <i>exit tax</i> to penalize fleeing businesses and residents. But in the end this will not work.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp; By this time, of course, Helen Gym will have finished her terms and found a new political opportunity in New York while ex-Mayor Kenney contemplates retirement in Palm Beach. A new candidate for mayor, another product of the city’s political machine, will promise 4 more years of continued growth and prosperity. She will be elected, after which other taxes will be imposed until at last the city will find itself on the brink of disaster. Many of the students who benefited from the slew of programs under Mayor Kenney will now be struggling parents trying to make ends meet. They will have no choice but to move to Pennsauken or Audubon, New Jersey, far away from the towering image of Billy Penn on top of City Hall.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp; Post Script: Shortly after Denmark instituted a tax on sweet drinks in the 1930s, that country soon realized it was losing millions of dollars in illegal soft drink sales, yet they did nothing to repeal the law. Instead they imposed a 2.3% flat tax on foods with saturated fat. What seemed like a quick fix was abolished in 15 months when it was revealed that less than 7 % of Danes had bothered to reduce their fat intake and that most Danes were traveling to Germany and Sweden to do their food shopping. In the end, Denmark decided to ditch both the soda tax and the fat tax, and the Danes have been happy ever since.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 45.0pt; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 10.5pt;"><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span><span style="font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</span><span style="color: #2a2e2e; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5424128481306152244.post-37104239731362812692017-01-28T19:17:00.004-05:002017-01-28T19:17:26.510-05:00Predictions for President Trump<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>As last year drew to a close,</b> many complained about how 2016 was an awful year and that they were glad to see it go. But now that 2017 is here, many of us are thinking about what the coming months will bring, especially with a new president in the White House.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>There’s been a lot of fear regarding this issue. If you were to go by the Facebook posts I see everyday, you’d come away thinking that we are all doomed and that peace in the United States is over. A friend of mine, for instance, is so worried about the incoming administration that he’s seeing two therapists: His regular therapist and a special ‘Trump Presidency’ therapist to help him deal with the future. My friend is convinced that the world will be ending on January 20th and he often speaks of being hauled off to a concentration camp because he is African-American.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>I haven’t witnessed this much fear since I was a little boy during the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis. At that time, our parents gathered us in a circle before bed and asked us to pray really hard because we might not wake up in the morning. My parents rarely minced words and tried to tell us the truth about the world. To this day I thank them for being honest.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>We can do one of two things about the incoming presidency. We can either A) contribute to the never-ending stream of negative energy that nothing good will ever come from President-Elect Trump, or B) choose to hope that something positive might come out of the new administration despite the dire warnings of doom from people like Michael Moore and Rosie O’Donnell. We can at least give Trump a chance before threatening to take to the streets or move to Costa Rica while screaming “Apocalypse Now!”</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>In my search to find out what might happen in the next four years, I discovered Spiritman Joseph, or Joseph Tittel, a talented clairvoyant who hails from Levittown. Tittel is a tall, blonde, tattooed guy who grew up wanting to become a police officer before discovering that he had psychic talents. Listening to Tittle’s videos is a little like listening to an articulate, unpretentious neighbor in Dunkin’ Donuts. But his predictions, unlike the predictions of mildly talented psychics, tend to come true.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>So what does this psychic say about 2017? Let’s take a ride on the Spiritman roller coaster and see.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Tittel says he did not vote for Trump because he believes that he is a psychopath. Harsh words, indeed, but then he explained himself.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>“I don’t like him but he’s President-Elect and we have to put positive energy around his presidency,” he said. “I’m only a Trump supporter for the moment. Trump’s a bully, but there have been many leaders of countries who have been complete psychopaths who have done great things for their country.”</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>I thought of my friend with the Trump therapist who fears that WWIII is coming, but Tittel says that WWIII was avoided in 2012 when indigenous Native American tribes and others, such as monks and nuns, prayed, meditated and did all sorts of ceremonial stuff to avoid that catastrophe. Trump, Tittel says, will not start WWIII, but instead he has a great opportunity to cement a peaceful relationship among China, the United States and Russia. Tittel sees Trump going to Russia and he even sees Putin coming to the United States, but probably not to Hollywood or to Rosie O’Donnell’s house.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>If partisan politicos hate psychics, it’s because good psychics see what they see with little to no regard for party loyalty.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Tittel says that Trump will be one of the most well traveled presidents in U.S. history, going to the most obscure places on the globe. He also sees Trump calling more spontaneous news conferences than any other president. This prediction makes sense when you consider Trump’s propensity for instant communication (Twitter), even though Obama was the first president to Tweet.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Tittel says that President Obama had less than great intentions when he supported the Russian hacking charge. Obama did this, Tittel says, to discolor Trump’s relationship with Russia. “Obama is part of the Clinton-Bush Washington establishment whereas Trump is not establishment at all.”</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Russia is not the problem, Tittel insists. China is. China is also headed for a big economic crisis. As time passes, it will become evident that China is the real threat to world peace.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>As for the summer of 2017, I wish I could offer readers the column equivalent of a box of chocolate or something to make them smile, but in Tittel’s view there will be no way to sugarcoat the intense demonstrations and riots that will take place this summer across the globe.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Prepare to see established leaders being overthrown or kicked out of office and embassies attacked by ordinary citizens fed up with the status quo. There will also be multiple assassinations and assassination attempts, including an unsuccessful attempt on Trump’s life that will mirror the attempt on President Reagan’s life.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Tittel predicts a U.S. economic crisis in July, but says that the economy will rebound in a big way thanks to Trump.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>It doesn’t take a psychic to know that the people Trump has surrounded himself with are generally problematic. Tittel calls the Trump Cabinet a “dark energy source” who are really not Trump’s friends, but who will secretly work for his demise. Here’s where Tittel’s predictions begin to sound like a novel by Dan Brown. Trump’s insider enemies will seek to do him harm in the next four years, including attempting to poison his food and hurt his family. Tittel is adamant: “Trump is an independent non-establishment type who is surrounding himself with the wrong people.”</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>I thought of a musical version of “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari,” when Tittel said that Trump will claim another historic presidential first when he begins to fire and hire new Cabinet members with amazing frequency. Tittel says: “His Cabinet firings will be like his reality show, ‘The Apprentice.’ You’re fired!”</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>The scary people that Trump surrounds himself with will attempt to turn him into their puppet, but they will not succeed. Tittel also sees strange things happening in the White House, like a person being taken out in a stretcher with a blanket over his face. He does not believe that the person will be Trump, but perhaps a reporter who suffered a heart attack while attending a news conference.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>“Both the United States and China love money before they love their own people,” Tittel offers, suggesting that people not invest in the stock market, IRAs, or “anything on paper.”</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>Tittel then goes full blast and says he looks forward to the coming Earth shift, when the two poles will shift and cause the earth “to be purified,” meaning that the darkness now on the planet will be “flooded off.” This will be a time when humanity wakes up, he says. He points to 2020 as being a significant date when “secrets and lies will no longer have merit.” 2020 or 2028 will be a time of great change. (The so-called ‘earth shift’ will also have unpleasant physical ramifications, but Tittel doesn’t go into this).</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>In other predictions, Tittel says:</div><div class="p4" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">1. Before the pole shift, Europe will be devastated by terrorism, especially France, which he sees as being wrecked into almost total oblivion by an atomic-like blast. Not by bombs from the sky but rather bombs planted underground, such as in sewers or in tunnels.</div><div class="p4" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">2. Trump will unleash full fury after a failed 9/11-style attack on American soil. Although the attack will be thwarted, Trump’s anger and his response will help to eradicate ISIS.</div><div class="p4" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">3. Pope Francis will be the last pope of the Catholic Church, although Tittel confesses the next pope might be the last pope. (Pope death predictions of this sort have always mystified me because no one ever says who will lead the Catholic Church after the last pope. Is Tittel saying the Catholic Church will end?) Tittel also says that Pope Francis will be killed by someone within his inner circle and that the death will be made to look like an illness. (Didn’t we hear a similar story with the death of Pope John Paul I?)</div><div class="p4" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">4. The summer of 2017 will be a time when sea- and lakefront beaches will be closed to the public because of toxic water. More and more dead fish will be washed ashore and beaches that we’ve known and loved forever will be shut down — forever.</div><div class="p4" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">5. Trump will complete the first term of his presidency, although there is a chance he could be impeached sometime in the 3rd or 4th year.</div><div class="p4" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">6. Tittel says people should stay away from Wal-Mart, where he sees mass shootings occurring.</div><div class="p4" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">7. He advises against traveling to Israel and the Middle East after May 2017.</div><div class="p4" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">8. He advises travelers to avoid booking hotel rooms in Trump-owned businesses, especially overseas where they will be the target of terrorists.</div><div class="p4" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">9. The Mexican wall will be started, but it will not be completed. According to Tittell, in time it will become apparent that where we really needed a wall was along our northern border.</div><div class="p2" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #262626; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 1.08em; letter-spacing: -0.02em; line-height: 1.85em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 0.5em; orphans: 4; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<span class="Apple-converted-space">&nbsp;</span>“The intuitive mind is a sacred gift,” as Albert Einstein once said.<span class="s1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">&nbsp;<b style="box-sizing: border-box;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">•</i></b></span></div></div>Thom Nickelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00933997449868301693noreply@blogger.com